Family Portrait
by PBContessa
Summary: This is a five parter. Vaughn becomes Syd's handler while she's working as Julia Thorne, and during that time, they concieve a child. Their only hope of reunion is by finding a way to overcome the Covenant.
1. Chapter 1: Hope's Muse

Title: Family Portrait  
Author: BristowBoyScout545, Tess, Tessa Claus, the all-mighty co-founding buddy, Crazy Off-Topic pet rock, Contessa of Smut, and the list goes on  
Genre: Flangst-but there is a vast amount of fluff. It's a sign of the apocalypse!  
Timeline: Syd's missing two years  
Summary: Worth the agony of their separation  
Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: Alias isn't mine, but Eli :baby: is!  
Soundtrack: Best of You, Foo Fighters  
Dedication: To Jim, Adel, and Claire. Thanks for your help guys

Family Portrait  
Sydney sat atop the silk burgundy sheets of Julia Thorne's bed, staring at the spectrum dancing off of the metallic silver of the disk that revolved lazily around her index finger as her thumb ran across the edge, spinning it slowly. The honed plastic slid across her skin, pleasantly burning the tender flesh as it wore a path across it. She didn't want to place the disk in the drive of the laptop that sat beside her bed. She didn't want to be Julia Thorne. Every day she felt Julia's haunting presence; every second she could feel her essence spreading, polluting her mangled heart, inching sickeningly close to overcoming her with every passing minute. The dark smoke that was Julia's soul was unfurling, the tendrils wrapping around her being, strangling last drop of Sydney Bristow-Vaughn from her exhausted body. She was suffocating, the poisonous fumes choking out her ever weakening resistance. She needed something to clear the fog before it enveloped her. But it wouldn't come. Nothing would come to save her. Not even him. The thought of him brought a momentary smile to her forlorn face, but it was frail and quickly perished.

"Vaughn" she breathed quietly, resting back against the head board despite her neck's protest to the awkward angle. She wished she could attach those wonderful, pure memories to his image, but they could not salvage her condemned soul, as even the most beautiful memory she had made with him brought back the shadow of their hopeless situation that would forever haunt them. It would never be over. It was endless. She placed a hand to her forehead, the other still toying with the disk. Her fingertips massaged her temples where light blond hair grew as she tried resuscitate the memory she had buried the deepest, its grave covered without a single flower or prayer. The fragile details that wove together to capture her precious recollection were gaunt, starved through disuse, but once she brought them back into the light, they expanded and elaborated, the exhilaration and passion of that night unfolding in a bid to rescue her fading soul. She hoped that maybe this time she would be able revive it without being consumed by the guilt, the grief, and the worry. She could have chosen another memory of nights spent expressing their love, but none of the others could compare to the sheer beauty of this one. For although it had brought about the desperate plight they were ensnared in, she could never, ever hate it. Because it had brought them something else as well.  
She let herself bask in the soft glow of their love, conjuring the memory of a million kisses and caresses, each one perfectly committed to her aching mind. It was in this ritual that she found her strength, her will to continue. Before this, her memories had always been enough to keep the overwhelming storm at bay, but tonight it was different. The recollections flooded her mind, reprinting and searing their images onto her irises, and she couldn't control them, couldn't stop them. Their love making faded away, replaced by the dry sob she had emitted after the click and the silence at the end of the line, her vision placing her once more at the edge of the bathtub, phone clutched in her hand as the news penetrated her mind. Then the scene changed, it was the hospital room where they had been forced to induce labor at barely seven months, the Covenant's resources too strong for them to go into hiding. The doubt, the uncertainty, the consuming fear that her child would not survive returned with the force it had possessed that very day. Then she was thrown back into reality, here and now, the hopelessness stretching before her on an interminable road of useless desires. It was never going to end.

She let memory of their last meeting fill her, the lack of any hope whatsoever it contained feeding her agony.

"_I'm fine" she lied coolly, hardening her eyes to his caring stare. He let his hand travel upwards, cupping her face softly; fingertips tenderly brushing her check where tears would have fallen if she had not imprisoned them long ago. Her eyelids flickered shut as she felt herself becoming lost in the simple action. They hadn't touched like this in so long, afraid their actions would evolve. She revealed her coffee gaze to his jade one at his next words, the affectionate tone making her body beg for his loving presentation to continue._

"_Sydney…please" he implored with his words and his eyes, not letting her shut herself away from him. Not after the nine months of agony while he had believed her to be dead. Not after he had been forced to send her back to her role as an assassin while he waited for ten unbearable weeks, watching their son struggle beneath an oxygen tent, surviving off of the mechanical life the tubes and monitors pumped into his tiny body. Slowly, those barriers behind the amber he loved crumbled; the rubble scattering across her loaded mind. She felt her lips inch towards his, his nose grazing hers as they leant in. she raised a hand to his chest, and just before his lips took hers, she pushed him away with a sorrowful gesture._

"_We can't, not after Eli" she whispered, pulling back. She hated being so close to him, but yet so far, but there was too much risk. They wouldn't endanger another of their children. She shifted her head carefully towards his hand, her lips nearly touching his warm palm as she spoke, her soft voice cracking as the emotions and longings she had concealed for nearly three years rushed forwards, liberating themselves.  
"I wanna go home. I want to see my son. I want to teach him how to ride a bike, to bake him cookies, to watch you two play hockey. I want to be with you when you tuck him into bed every night. I want to have a home with you, to be able to kiss you and hold and make love to you without worrying that we'll conceive another child; that we'll have to put another one of our children through what Elijah's been through. I don't want to be afraid to a baby with you. To watch our family build and grow. But I'll never get to do that. I'll never be just his mom or your wife." She stopped, the anguish in her tone freezing them to the spot as the cruelty of their situation claimed them with icy fingers._

"_We'll never be a family."_

_She pulled away from him, wanting all warmth; all comfort to leave her body, abandoning it until it was as cold as her heavy heart felt. His lips parted to speak, and she knew what was going to come out of them. She could already foresee the coming of foolishly hopeful remarks that this trying time would soon be over. Instead came a dark whisper carrying enticing words and alluring possibilities he had not voiced in years._

"_Come away with me. We'll hide away where no one can find us. Just the three of us."_

_His earnest eyes searched hers, silently demanding her to accept his appealing proposal. She tore away her gaze, needing to reconstruct those protecting barriers._

"_You know we can't do that." He turned her head to face him once again, not letting her fend off his offer so simply. "Think about it Sydney" he begged, forcing beautifully naïve images to flood her mind._

"_Just me, you, and Elijah. Don't you want that?" He knew he was pushing her, challenging her. He wouldn't let her escape without a heated brawl, and she wasn't backing down._

"_You know I want that more than anything. But we can't have it, not while the Covenant still exists. I'm not going to let them get away without paying for what they've done. I'm not going to let you spend the rest of your life in hiding. I don't want that for you, and I don't want that for him." Why did they always have to save the world? Why couldn't they once, just once, leave it for someone else?_

"_But Syd-" he began, but she interjected, "Vaughn, you know there's no other choice." He hated it, hated their condition, hated that she was right. They couldn't escape. They were prisoners in this game, and they would have to win of be trapped on this level forever._

"_Of course I know, God damn it!" he shouted angrily, furious at this stalemate. He looked back at her, seeing the alarm and pain in the expression created by her beautiful features._

"_I'm sorry, Syd. I didn't mean to yell, I just…" She reached out, taking his hand and squeezing it gently in a sign of reconciliation. "I know."_

_He sighed despairingly, looking down at the evergreen threads of the cushion between them as though the spotless fibers held the words he was searching for. "It's just…every time I'm with Eli, as amazed as I am watching him grow up, I can't help thinking that because of them, you're missing it. And I know our work is helping bring them down, but Syd: it's been over three years. How long is Elijah going to grow up without his mother? How much longer are we going to have to live separately?"_

_He paused, shaking his head sadly as he wondered aloud. "How much longer can we live like this?"_

_They sat there, their eyes never parting._

He rested his elbow on the table, setting his chin atop his curled fingers and allowing the memories, a concoction of the darkest and sweetest times, to fill him.

He was going to be a father. If the Covenant found out, she and their baby would be killed. He and Sydney were finally married. It had been in that hospital room, just before she delivered, her life and Elijah's hanging in the air tantalizingly close, but just out of his grasp.

He stood, almost toppling the wooden chair as he rose, walking towards the living room. Sometimes he just needed confirmation that he was there, that he had made it, and his mind wasn't just projecting him in a desperate attempt to quell his loneliness. It had a nasty inclination to do that.

Eli sat at his little table, papers strewn across the blue plastic surface, crayons scattered among them. His pudgy left fist held a purple crayon which was darting furiously across a scribble of yellow and orange. At the sight of his father, his emerald eyes lit up, his hands dashing through the air to convey his message. Vaughn interpreted silently, a smile forming as Eli finished.

'_I drew Donnie'_

Vaughn crouched to observe the picture as his son beamed proudly at the matrix of violet weaving in and out of a blob of golden and carrot.  
_'Looks just like him' _he confirmed with the appropriate gestures, his hands quickly and efficiently performing the motions. Eli's tiny pearly teeth were revealed as he clapped eagerly at his father's approval.

'Time for bed' Vaughn signed, and lifted the giggling toddler into the air, gently carrying him over his shoulder, leading him into his dinosaur themed room as he readied him for sleep. A brush with a Power Rangers toothbrush and a pair of Batman pajamas later, Vaughn carefully tucked his son beneath the comforter, placing a soft kiss to his forehead, as his hand formed the simple gesture for those three powerful words. He knelt beside the bed, watching as Elijah gently slipped into the dream realm. He brushed back a few strands of copper hair before whispering what his earlier action had been meant to say.

"I love you."

He knew even if he was awake, his son would never hear them, but he whispered them anyway, every night. He felt anger rise within him at the thought of all the Covenant had robbed from his child. Nearly his life, then his hearing, and finally his mother.

"It's not fair!" he protested furiously into the silence, his anger growing at the thought that his words should have woken the boy.

"She should be here" he finished more quietly, his body shaking as the anger, frustration and injustice overcame him, threatening to push him over the edge and make everything they had strived for during the past three years a waste. His memory conjured the recollection of their last meeting, yearning for the anguish it would supply; unknowingly accessing the replay of events in the same instant she did so many miles away.

He lowered himself beside the bed, his back causing the boyish pattern of prehistoric creatures that lived upon the bedspread to sway. He felt the inevitable smog brew, the arrival of the churning charcoal clouds that engulfed his mind as the memory dissolved, the particles falling neatly back into the steely gray box he locked them away in. Thin, wicked, twisted vines of doubt and pessimism crept stealthily through the murky swamp of thought, waiting to entice his desires for the future into the open, then strangle every last drop of silvery liquid hope from it, snuffing out its crystalline light. They fanned, whipping through his mind, poisoning every wisp of pristine meditation that happened to wander astray as the corrupted strands tangled in his subconscious on their way to the core of every optimistic belief. Their onyx branches wrapped around what little faith he had left, injecting it with toxic words and malicious uncertainty.

'_Give up',_ they hissed venomously._ 'This is a losing battle'._ Then came the last attack, the wound inflicted deeper and more lethal, the arsenic spikes driving deeper into his mutilated heart._ 'Is this even worth it?_ it questioned cynically, the query spreading into and decaying his dying belief._ What were they fighting for?_ They had been at battle for so long, they had forgotten the cause._ 'Was anything worth the agony of their separation?' _The whip-like bonds tightened around his last vestige of hope. Its sheen faltered, flickering as it lost the source that fuelled it: his faith.  
Then, he heard Eli stir in his sleep, rolling to his side where he slumbered, curled up beneath a pterodactyl and triceratops that adorned the comforter. Vaughn looked back at him, and stared. He was sleeping. Just sleeping. His chubby face had a tiny grin, even out of consciousness, and a rebel lock of brown hair curled around his ear. He was so…innocent. Now Vaughn could recall what they were fighting for, the drive behind their selfless lives. It was so that moments like this could still exist, so that somewhere there were some last remains of serenity.

He climbed slowly onto the bed, lifting the sheets around him and he wrapped his arms around his tiny sleeping child. He now remembered the source of his strength; the cause for their sacrifice. Just before he joined Elijah in his first restful sleep in many nights, he recalled the contents of the disc he had sent to her.

He smiled fondly, needing to believe that it would be enough to restore her will and tie her to the extraordinary reservoir of strength they had invested in the beautiful boy that lay asleep in his arms.


	2. Chapter 2: Picture Imperfect

II.  
Uncle Eric, Grandpa Jack, Mommy, and Daddy all sat in places of honor upon the bed. Uncle Eric and Grandpa Jack were seated regally near the footboard, while Mommy and Daddy earned the coveted spaces on either side of sleeping Elijah. Vaughn lifted Mommy, examining her. She was nothing special, just a sunny yellow bear with an apple green bow. But she and her companion, Daddy, a Kelly green bear with a sunflower bow were his favorites. Eli had only asked about his mother once, during the naming of the plush companions that were his closest friends.

_He toddled into the room, struggling beneath the cumbersome load he carried. Unceremoniously, he deposited the toys onto the floor, then stood them up against the foot of the couch. He patted Vaughn on the knee and when he garnered his attention, pointed at the stuffed animals, holding them up one by one. First was a floppy blue rabbit, which Eli informed Vaughn was now called, "Uncle Eric." Next came a rigid red lion, whose fierce demeanor suited his new name: "Grandpa Jack." Then, the cuddly green bear whose fur was the same as the eyes of the man he had been named for. "Daddy." And at last there was the yellow bear…_

_Eli held the lone stuffed animal up to his father before dropping it to free his hands so he could ask, 'Who gave bear?'_

_His child-like grammar and then, still early knowledge of sign language sometimes made his conversation choppy, but Vaughn could always decipher his meaning. He had named each for the giver, but he did not know who the namesake for the fluffy grizzly was._

'_Mommy' Vaughn spelled out the answer with each individual letter, rather than using the single sweeping motion. Mother was an unfamiliar title to Elijah. The boy mirrored his actions, his hand uncertain as it formed the strange new word. He looked up at Vaughn for reassurance, who nodded._

'_Mommy' Eli signed once more, this time happily, pleased with the name. Then he frowned, first at the bear, then at Vaughn._

'_Who's Mommy? he asked by forming the signs, his pudgy fingers becoming acclimated to performing the sequence, determined to know the origin of his toy's new moniker. Vaughn bent down, lifting Elijah and the bear onto his lap as he seated himself upon one of the black cushions that padded the sofa. Eli sank back into the security provided by his father's familiar embrace, patting Mommy on the head before bestowing a sweet kiss upon her. Love was abundant in the small but comfortable cottage as Vaughn strove to show him the affection of two parents, but the kisses and cuddles exchanged between Daddy and son were as much for Vaughn as they were for Eli. They were one of the few ways he felt safe again._

_Vaughn placed a soft kiss to Elijah's thick auburn hair as he contemplated what he would say, or sign. How could he describe the bravest, most beautiful, most amazing woman in the world to a child who had never seen her? Slowly, his hands depicted the story, painting the air with the tale of Sydney Bristow._

'_She's beautiful' he had started. His went on, his thoughts swirling and churning, descriptions and adjectives rising to the surface of his elated mind, each one eager to become a piece of the story. He told of her bright brown eyes, her perfect, dimpled smile. He told of her bravery, her strength, her compassion. But most of all, his motions spoke of her love, the love that she showered them with every second of every day as she fought the enemy that separated them. He narrated her sacrifice, her desire for her son to live. Finally, he related her return, how she would soon come back to them. Eli had sat in wonder and awe at the stories, scarcely daring to believe that such an extraordinary figure had given him life._

'_She'll be here with us soon' his father's gestures had promised._

That had been a few weeks before his third birthday, four months prior to the present. He hadn't asked about her since, at least not to Vaughn, but he had witnessed the small boy imploring the bear when her namesake would return. His heart had broken as he saw his son's frustration as the animal remained silent, its inanimate paws unable to form the signs even if it knew the answer. In anger, Eli had thrown the toy, glaring at where it lay sprawled on the carpet of his room. Vaughn watched as he scowled at the bear for not being able to give him a reply, and then glanced worriedly at it. He bit his lip, as if in great conflict, then slowly reached out and retrieved the stuffed animal from its discarded position, hugging it to his chest as tiny tears began to fall. He had never felt so alone.

Daddy had said she would come back soon, but when? As he watched other children playing at the playground with their parents, he had realized that his family dynamics weren't exactly orthodox. So why wasn't she home yet? Didn't she want him? As more tears streamed down his rosy cheeks, Vaughn had entered the room. The boy's verdant eyes brimmed with sorrow, the loneliness and confusion of their situation cruelly coming into his focus. The knowledge of the fracture in his life had filled him with the consuming desire to mend it. His young mind was driven by the burning need to make things right, not only to fill the gap he had not realized was there, but to restore the ever dimming light in his father's lonesome eyes.

'_He shouldn't be burdened with this'_ Vaughn's bleeding heart had screamed, and he stooped to lift Elijah from his huddled position against the smooth plaster of the navy wall. Their eyes had met: jade with jade; pain with pain. He had lifted him from the floor, bear and all, and held him. Eli had clung to him, wrapping his arms tightly around his neck, afraid to be swept up in the chaos if he did not find a secure hold.

But Vaughn had been his refuge, his anchor, as he was for the figure he ached for. Vaughn's presence in both their lives linked them and formed the only semblance of family ties they could manage. He was their intercessor, channeling both their love and support to the other. But the myriad of emotions he bore for the trio weighed on his soul, plagued his consciousness, and terrorized his nightmares with the burdening thought that the intensity of their need to be reunited would not be sated.

Vaughn sighed as the memories dimmed and departed, unnerved that the sight of a mere stuffed animal could stir up and evoke the settled sediments of desperation in his barren heart. He tucked the bear in beside his slumbering son, whispering words of comfort into unhearing ears before departing.

"Three more days, _mon fils_." He looked down at Donovan who was standing guard beside the bed. He patted his furry head affectionately before murmuring, "Watch over him, Pal. She'll be home soon." He turned, glancing back at Elijah before departing, his feet soon journeying onto cold tile. He bent low, twisting the knob and releasing the water.

'_If she makes it'_ jeered the cynical voice Eli's sleeping form had banished the night before as he began to warm the water, testing the temperature of the flow as his hand flicked through the downpour._ 'She'll make it'_ his mind declared defiantly as his clothes were discarded onto the icy tile and he stepped over the edge of the tub, yanking the curtain closed around him, isolating him with his demons.

His hands rubbed the ivory bar between them, working up a dense lather, the thick foam coating his palms. Gradually, his actions became almost violent as he scrubbed his raw skin with vigor, wanting to scour himself clean from the dark thoughts that clung to him, dirtying him.

His motions relaxed and slowed, the scratches beginning to burn. He let the warm deluge soothe the angry marks his earlier actions had produced, the droplets extracting some of the sting from the scrapes that marred his slick skin. The steam hung in the air, clinging to him and the slippery walls of the shower, the fog partially obscuring his view. His sense of time was warped. How long had he been standing there, staring into the mist? He didn't move; his body rigid and immobile. He just stood. Just let the abyss engulf him.  
Then, out of the haze, rang out her voice, one word, one resounding note.

'Vaughn' it was jovial, teasing, laced with her laughter; he could hear her smiling. He turned, his eyes darting across the steamy veil, searching every dip and fold in its fluid cloth for the source. The temperature of the water that poured down his back began to cool, and the mist started to evaporate, exposing the emptiness of the cream colored barriers of the shower.

He felt confused; hurt. What had just happened? He tried to relay those elusive moments before the sound, before her voice had rung so clearly through the blurry air, but they slipped in and out of his memory as his mind both rejected and embraced the sensation. As the strands of recollection slid across the polished surface of the chambers of thought he often lost his way in, he caught glimpses of what had passed. The white smoke, lurking, waiting; creeping nearer. And him, standing there; letting it. His hand twisted the wet knob, halting the flow of water as he wrenched the curtain aside, reaching out to grasp a thick pea green towel that he ran across his sopping hair before he wrapped it around his lower half. He caught a glimpse of his reflection as he stepped towards the condensation-coated mirror. He peered at the image of the forsaken man reflected back at him, distorted from the moisture. Exhaling, his breath thickened the dense silvery layer before causing it to drip away, offering a clearer view of the man he had become. And, as the water slid down the smooth surface, he understood.

He had been inactive, allowing the fog to advance upon him. But she had been there to save him; she had been the light shining through the vapor, illuminating the path before him, warning him of the jagged spires that loomed ominously in the distance. It had been her voice that had been the beacon, guiding him safely to shore, redirecting him back onto the path he wanted to be on. She had broken through the barrier of ever thickening fear and anxiety, reaching out to him, unfazed by the walls trying to expel her from his life. Their impending situation crept menacingly nearer, the hazy brew stealing over the horizon of his mind, but he banished it, taking solace and trust in her love.

He ran a hand down his face; feeling the pleasant cool of the ring he wore, anguish creasing his features as the dangers that imminently lay ahead for her caused him agonizing trepidation. She had been the radiating light that had overtaken the darkness. His fear was that he would not be able to be to be the same for her, and that the dense mass of uncertainty that would saturate her mind after the Covenant's operation would be too thick for his fragile but resilient strength to penetrate.  
----  
The weak rays that filtered through the Venetian blinds lethargically dragged her back into consciousness. Wearily, she opened her eyes, her lids flickering groggily before deciding on the inevitable. The disc and laptop lay expectantly on the bedside table, reminding her of the dreary, monotonous work that stretched ahead of her. Her palm kneaded her exhausted eyes, her jaded thoughts realizing that this may be her last morning alive. She sighed, heavily.

She had gotten used to this; the waiting, the dread. She had spent seven months of it, the fear clawing at her heart as it expanded with love for her unborn child, nearly puncturing it, but not quite. In a way, it would have been easier if it had broken her heart, ripping it apart and spilling its delicate contents. But it hadn't, and for twenty six weeks her soul had been laden with hope and terror for the fragile life she carried. Every moment of that time, she had been on the edge, expecting the Covenant to discover Elijah's presence and tear it from her. The knowledge of her child growing gradually inside of her brought a culmination of agonizing joy and elated fear to course through her, the pain of the overwhelming love she felt for him paralyzing her. Even her sleep had been tormented with visions of the horrors they could inflict upon her long awaited child. No, approaching death could not scare her any longer.

She smiled wryly. If she died, she would be dragging Julia down with her. On this light note, she lifted the portable computer and set it against her thighs, flipping it open and wincing at the artificial light it projected. Sighing once more, she retrieved the disc from its transparent plastic casing, her fingernails prying it open, using the groove in its clear body. She slid the silver circle into the drive, the machine whirring animatedly as it processed the contents. The screen went black with a small wheeze, and she assumed it would return with a compilation of data to sludge through. She let out a tiny gasp as her mind realized what was being displayed before her.

Upon the screen, a small home video had begun to play. A man she knew by heart and soul stood, grinning, behind a wooden kitchen table, a Power Rangers party hat perched comically atop his head. From presumably behind the camera, Weiss's voice narrated the scene.

"Okay and its time for the cake, Uncle Eric's favorite part. And here's the birthday boy!"

The camera swiveled to show a small boy with russet hair and a smile as bright as the three candles stuck into the chocolate cake that Vaughn had placed before him. He reached out, sticking his fingers into the coco frosting and licking them happily before his father, laughing, explained with careful gestures that he was supposed to blow out the candles and make a wish. At the mention of 'wish' his eyes lit up, his smile widening, revealing cherubic dimples. She noticed him glance excitedly at the bear perched upon the oak table, then close his eyes. Vaughn waved at the camera, his eyes seeming to look directly into hers as their son inhaled deeply, then blew with all his might, extinguishing the candles.

Sydney stared, transfixed by the screen; the window to their life that Vaughn had opened for her. She rarely heard of their home life, her absence from it making the pain too acute for them both. She leaned forward, her thirsting soul drinking in the image of her son._ 'Oh God, was that him?_ Was that the tiny, wrinkly, red, baby she had given birth to all those years ago? It was, those lush verdant irises were unmistakable. She raised her hand to her mouth as if it would keep the breath from leaving her at the shock of seeing her little boy so…_big_. The video clip faded from view, replaced by a still frame.

She bit her lip, feeling tears she had barricaded starting to well. This was the little infant that had been barely over three pounds. He was a healthy, happy toddler. Now, finally, she could see the fruits of her sacrifice. The photo was of Elijah seated happily on Vaughn's lap, a Dr. Seuss book clutched proudly in his hands as he gleefully deciphered the words on the pages._ He was learning how to read._ Her baby..._he would be going to school soon._ Joyously liberated tears spilled down her cheeks, a delighted sob escaping her, filling the atmosphere and lifting the shroud that encased it. The photograph faded, just as she noticed a date scribbled on the corner of it, only to be replaced by another.

Her son was asleep, curled beneath his dinosaur comforter, a gentle smile caressing his angelic face as he hugged a sunny bear with an emerald bow. She knew that bear. She had chosen it for him, but it had been her solace as well. It had been her company during the endless, exhausted, lonely nights alone with her fear and the miniscule life inside of her. It had witnessed her tears, her frustration, and her joy. It had stood guard at his birth, and when she had been forced to leave him, it had represented her in his life. It was the only thing she could give him as a physical reminder, but nothing else was needed. She knew by her boy's smile that he understood. Baby knew that Mommy loved him.

The tears cascaded down her face, but she let them fall. They were messengers, the droplets carrying her unconditional love out into the world, and somehow, to him.

The next picture showed Elijah, unruly auburn hair maintained by a shiny red helmet, blue Playschool roller-skates resting unsteadily upon the blacktop of the driveway, his hands bearing a child sized hockey stick. There was a scrape on one of his knees, and his elbow sported a Star Wars band-aid, but he was beaming, his pearly teeth brightening the world around him, and his evergreen eyes were lit with excitement._ God, he looked just like Vaughn._ As a tear slid onto the denim of the jeans she had fallen asleep in, the hockey picture was replaced by one showing Elijah and Vaughn.

She let a laugh grace the air as she saw they were forming the Boy Scout sign, each with two fingers upright in the air, saluting their past life_. Elijah as a cowboy on Halloween. Blowing bubbles and watching them drift into the heavens. Holding a jar of fireflies whose sheen illuminated his innocent face. Chasing Donovan around the backyard with a mischievous grin. Clutching a cone of chocolate ice cream with the dark tan substance smeared all over his sticky cheeks and fingers._ Each one bore a date and a nostalgic air, attempting to share its memory with her and include her within its precious recollection. Each one was a symbol of what they had accomplished; were still accomplishing. Every second of her son's life was another victory, every fragile moment was another battle struggled with and won. The last of the images appeared upon the monitor, installing a sweet and tender hope into her slowly filling heart.

Eli sat in a swing, his copper hair tussled the way she loved his father's, his happiness evident. She could almost hear his laughter although it had never reached her ears. He could not voice words, but his laughter was alive with his life and his purity. Vaughn stood behind him, his smile perfectly captured in the vibrant hues of the photo. She wondered vaguely who had taken the shot when she noticed a message scrawled at the base of the Polaroid, written in Vaughn's perfectly untidy hand.

_Wish You Were Here!_

The cheery note was one that could be seen on a postcard hallmarking a family vacation, but it ran deeper for Sydney. It rang of hope; spoke of the desire to make things right that drove their daily existence.

They lived because they would not give in to death; loved because they refused to let their anger consume them; fought because surrender was never considered an option. The image remained, stilled on the screen, but living, thriving in her heart. They were her strength, her will; her guardians. Her cell phone jangled; the line reserved for her Covenant contacts. It was time.

Slowly, she removed the disc, replacing it into her pocket, softly patting the small bulge it created. 

She was ready.


	3. Chapter 3: Lost and Found

1III  
Sydney couldn't remember much about her drive to the facility in response to the Covenant's summons. _Fitting_, she chuckled humorlessly. She stood before the blank gray door, aware that she might not make it back out alive. Julia had been called to this lab to undergo analysis to see if she was fit for their next assignment. Sydney had been informed four weeks ago about an intercepted transmission. She knew the truth. The door swung back.  
"Julia" Oleg greeted with false hospitality, his wrinkled face breaking into an eerie grin. Julia replied with a curt smile, her amber eyes devoid of any emotion. Julia was like that. She didn't waste time on weakness. She was lead down a bare, steely, hall, the emptiness of the walls mocking the spotless plane her mind would soon become. Julia was unfazed. It wasn't her husband that had been left alone with a tiny infant. It wasn't her son who had never had a mother. They weren't her memories.

Her confident stride and focused stare exuded a cool and undetached air. After all, as far as Julia was concerned, this was just a trivial evaluation. Oleg turned down the winding corridor, the metallic ring his steps made as they fell upon the concrete evaporating from the air, letting the silence seep into the hollow it had created. He reached out grasping the handle and pulling the door open with an ominous creak. He entered the chamber, beckoning with a wave of his grizzled hand for her to follow. She did, the heels of the midnight boots she wore clanking against the floor. It was concrete, just as the walls and ceiling were. She looked up. There was a single rectangular light hanging down, a blinding pale glow emitting from it. A half circle created by tables, all sagging beneath monitors, wires, and other equipment, flanked the cold steel medical table that she knew was meant for her. Oleg gestured to it with a sweep of his gnarled hand, and Julia hopped onto its smooth surface.

"This won't hurt" he assured her, returning from behind one of the tables bearing a jumble of wire leading back to the beeping screens perched around the room like vultures. He reached up, attaching the sensors to her temples, brushing aside her blond hair with a tender motion. Sydney flinched, disgusted, but Julia remained still. He finished, instructing her to lie down as he returned behind the glow of a computer at the central table. She did, the impact of the frigid metal jarring Julia from her.  
Sydney winced, hearing her brittle form shatter against the repressed concrete. She let out an exhale, expelling the stale air from her lungs. She could never breathe properly when Julia took over: she always felt suffocated; starved.

_One last hurdle_

She bit her lip, tasting the salt of her own blood taint her tongue as her mind was slowly gripped by the full impact of her situation. _The past four years._ Gone. She recalled the nine months spent trying to break her. _Shock. Darkness. Light. Hunger. Nausea. Exhaustion. Pain_. Her memories saved her. Her memories of him. She felt sickened, remembering all of the nights she had pushed her memories aside, discarding them in the solitude of her loneliness, refusing to push past their bleak veils and delve into the beauty of their contents. And this was the last time she had to relive, revive, and recommit them until they were torn from her. How had this began? Flashed a desolate apartment, a drained bottle, and a fallen man, exploding through her mind, and she was jolted back that night. 

_I have to see him. Her words raced through her head as the glow of the streetlights zipped past in blurs of pale color. Slowly, the car drew level with the red brick apartment building. It was nice: lilac bushes dotting the outer surface of the walls, balconies protruding out above the rush of city life, windows flashing in the moonlight. Just as she remembered it. She opened the door, her feet unsteady on the pavement, her mind unable to focus save for simple motor functions._ She would see him again._An elderly man clad in a maroon uniform that was lined with gold and a stiff cap perched on his head opened the door for her, smiling from his post._

She nervously entered the lobby, remembering her first and only visit to this place. It had barely changed, the same deep red carpet, the same potted plants, the same cluttered desk behind which sat the same dark haired receptionist. Sydney approached her quickly. This was it.  
"What number?" the woman asked in a clipped, professional manner. _Sydney swallowed, trying to down her anxiety and excitement in the nervous gulp.  
"209" she croaked shakily, watching the woman scan the callboard before her expression fell. "209?" she repeated, her face a mask of pity. "Yes", she confirmed, her voice barely a hoarse whisper. _What was wrong? _The receptionist chewed her lip, glancing at the buttons used to notify the tenants of incoming visitors. She sighed, dropping the pen she had clutched while in thought._

"Just go up."

Fear flitted through her aching heart. Had something happened to him?

"Don't you need to ring first?"

Her voice was wavering, becoming increasingly weak as the noose dread began to tighten.

"Won't do any good", the woman murmured sadly.

Sydney nodded mechanically, allowing the blonde strands to veil her face before she turned to the stairs, coming to stop at the base. Her body struggled with itself, both needing to see him and to distance herself from the tragedy that had caused the pain in the woman's eyes. The overwhelming ache that had been engulfing her since she had been torn from him won, pushing aside any other thoughts and emotions, gaining strength with each step mastered. Soon, she was running, tearing up the two flights that were all that divided them now. I have to see him._  
And suddenly, that minute was the longest in her life, and it didn't matter that she had been able to last nine months without him. During that time, the thought of their reunion was her only solace, and she was racing the storm. If she didn't enter his embrace, all she had endured would come crashing down on her, and she would finally be broken._

A wooden door. Three golden numbers. 2. 0. 9.

Her hand was on the knob. He loves me. _She turned it, slowly._ He loves me. _A step onto the beige carpeting._ He loves me. _And then she entered.  
Her arrival was greeted by a dazed stare as the broken man watched with saddened emerald eyes._ Nine months is nothing. _Nine months. 273 days. 6,552 hours. Nine months was everything.  
He had lived it too, every agonizing moment of it. The stained, crumpled clothes he wore over his frail form and the dense stubble that had not yet formed a beard only because his best friend had forcibly shaved his sunken face a few weeks back gave their silent testimony. His hell had matched hers, the whiskey bottle he was clutching unable to sooth the pain. His eyes took in her image, and he murmured in disbelief, "Issan angel." He raised the bottle to his lips, but she pulled it from his grasp, deflecting the frantic attempts to recover it. "Pleeease" he pleaded mournfully. "Iff I sstop drinking, you disssapear" he slurred, tears cascading down his cheeks as he swiped at the bottle once more. The torture she had suffered was immediately forgotten, her heart only aware of his pain, and the need to make it go away._

"I won't disappear, I promise you" she reassured, brushing away every tear that fell. The bottle was discarded at their feet and he was in her arms as they broke down, their sobs reverberating around the once lifeless apartment, his head cradled to her chest, her cheek against his hair. They clung to each other, slowly, gloriously, becoming whole.

The memories were flooding her subconscious now, each wanting to piece itself into their story before it was exiled into non-existence. Every hope, cry, fear, kiss, they all wanted to remind her one last time of the part they had played in their journey. Beautiful, painful, they all had their rightful places. And now they were claiming them.

_'Kendall has a sick sense of humor' she thought darkly as she approached the restaurant owner and innkeeper, hoping her blond hair and dark glasses would dissuade any recognition. "I have a reservation under Boucher." She laced her voice with a French accent, Parisian, to be exact._

"Ah, oui, he is already upstairs, Madame. Room 17."

'Of all the restaurants on France, Kendall has to choose this one' she thought as she took the small golden key he offered, ascending the steps to the upper level where the rooms were. She remembered how she had almost come up here with him_. It seemed so long ago, and being shot at on their first date seemed like a relatively normal experience compared to what had befallen their relationship recently. She found the door, unlocking it and halfheartedly pushing her way through the entrance as she slid her sunglasses into her jacket pocket._

She fell speechless as she gazed upon the room.

_It was relatively small, containing only a fireplace, a four-poster bed with maroon hangings, and a matching mahogany dresser and bedside table set. But what was extraordinary were the tiny white tea candles that winked from perches all over the room, their happy lights sparkling along the crystal surfaces of a dozen vases. Each was bursting with irises, all a brilliant white and gently fragrant...except one. Then, she understood, grinning as she traced the petals of the purple blossom set amongst the fullest of the snowy blossoms._

_A figure stepped shyly from the shadows, his cologne weaving around her as she sensed his presence._

"_Two nights ago, I was visited by an angel. When I woke up, I was sure it was just a dream. But she left me this..."_

_His hand covered, hers, guiding it across the surface of the flower, the only gift she could leave him. They traced its contours as her breathing quickened against the steady exhales whispering across her neck. The aroma of the flowers and the glow of the flickering flames encased them, and everything was still except for their wildly beating hearts._

"_How do you know it was an angel?" she asked shakily, her back still to him._

"_Because she dragged me from hell, and showed me heaven" he answered quietly, and she couldn't take it any longer. She turned to face him, copper meeting shimmering emerald before she kissed him. Her hands found his hair, his face, his shoulders, his back, wanting every part of him at once, and his hunger matched hers. Their kiss was laced with need and sorrow, lips and tongues healing and renewing the other's weary soul. It lasted for eternity, yet not nearly long enough as they finally broke apart, still locked in a tight embrace. She stared into his eyes that no longer revealed a lost and forsaken man, but one reborn. Her past, her present, her future, they all lay here, safe and whole, and she ached to be enveloped in him, in all that they were and ever would be._

"_I need you."_

_The declaration was soft, filled with a vulnerability and intimacy she had never quite known before. "I need you to make me sure that we're alive" she whispered urgently, not knowing quite where these words were coming from, but feeling their truth as her longing for him worsened. His answer was wordless perfection. His fingers grazed her cheek before tucking a soft blonde strand of hair behind her ear. They stood there, trembling, painful past and splendid future colliding, and tears poured down their cheeks, mingling and soothing, rejuvenating their hearts._

_Then, he smiled, and taking her hand, led her reverently to the bed. The candles shimmered, and the irises seemed to dance in the docile light, but at that moment, neither noticed, only seeing the one whose presence they had craved for so long._

She smiled in the back of her mind, behind her mask, remembering this bliss of their reunion, their hushed words.

"_Vaughn, I want to marry you."_

"_Sydney, there's nothing I'd rather do than marry you, right now."_

_A pause._

"_We will. I promise."_

And the amazing, miraculous outcome of that night of passion.

_She sat on the slippery edge of the bathtub, the phone clutched in her hand so tightly that she thought she might crack the plastic. Anxiously awaiting the call, she wouldn't allow herself to hope or fear, suspending the moment until she was sure of what the future might hold. The cell phone vibrated, and she jolted, her jittery hands fumbling with the device as she brought it to her ear._

"_Doctor Carson?" she answered, pushing aside speculations as she listened to the young woman's words._

"_Yes. Thank you. Goodbye."_

_The phone slipped from her hands, crashing against the tile as she shook, her throat clenched, her chest tightening. She bit her lip, then released a hollow sob that echoed off the confining walls. A soft wail escaped her mouth as the salty tears streaked down her cheeks, visions of the future assaulting her mind._

_Violence. Fear. Emptiness._

_She rocked, slowly, her arms embracing her midriff protectively._

"_I won't let them take you from me."_

Pain shot through her heart at the memory of the fear that had eaten away from her, followed by a surge of hope. This was it. This was the fulfillment of the promise she had made to her baby boy, the first words she ever spoke to him.

_She was curled up on the bed when he found her in her hotel room three days later, their first face-to-face meeting since _that _night. Her left arm was wrapped around her stomach; it had rarely left that post since she had found out.  
"Syd?" He sat next to her, concern aging his face past his years. She rolled over to face him, and days of rehearsal and recitation disintegrated as she blurted out, "I'm pregnant, and I don't know what we're going to do."_

His mouth fell open in shock as he soaked up her words.

"Pregnant?"  
She nodded, chewing her lip as she stared at him, wishing he would say some magic words that would make everything okay. But there were none, there was no quick fix to this."They're going to find out, I know they will. They're going to hurt our baby, Vaughn."

Sobs shook her, and he lifted her face gently with his hands, stroking her cheeks lovingly.  
"No. They're not. They can't, because this is our _baby._ Our Child. We _created this baby, and we're going to be a family. We'll make this work."_

His voice shook with determination as he tried to quell his own doubt along with hers. "I don't have a plan yet, have no idea what we're going to do, but that doesn't matter right now. That doesn't matter because this is a good thing. This is supposed to be a happy moment for us, and I won't let them ruin it."

She rested her head on his lap, and he placed their hands beneath her shirt, trying to fuse some warmth into her soul, to shatter anxiety's icy grip. He bent down, his lips grazing her ear as he whispered reassurance he wasn't sure he possessed.

"This is a good thing. A baby, Syd. A tiny little person is alive because we live for each other."

His words wrapped around her, flowing endlessly, creating a cocoon that sheltered her from her paralyzing worry. And she let go, finally letting herself feel the joy that was rightfully hers at the news of her expectancy. She squeezed his hand, then smiled weakly. Her words were timid, unsteady, but she gained strength as she uttered them. "A beautiful baby boy with bright green eyes, just like his daddy."

He grinned."Well, what if it's a girl?"

"It's a boy. I know it.

He stroked her stomach tenderly before whispering, "I got you something."

She sat up, curious. He reached into his pocket, retrieving a small burgundy velvet box before pulling a long, white gold chain from within it. On the end of the chain hung a ring. A diamond ring. He slid the necklace over her head, tucking it beneath her shirt so that it was concealed.

"I promised you that night that we'd get married, and we will. Things will be okay, someday." Part of him felt guilty; he knew he was promising her a future he did not know existed. But it felt good, saying those words...almost believing them. She placed her hand to her heart, to where the ring rested, a never ending symbol of their love, then looked into his eyes. She laughed, amazed at how he still took her breath away, then leaned forward, pressing her lips against his. Things weren't okay-they wouldn't be for a long time, but for now they pushed that aside. Their child would be a secret, his birth secluded and private, but for a little while, they let themselves dream.

She felt her throat becoming more and more dry with each stoic click and whir of the machines around her, and she struggled to hold onto this last slew of painful, joyful, and irreplaceable memories. 

_She fidgeted nervously with a button of the tan leather jacket she had been using more and more often these past seven months to conceal her ever growing bump. She was thankful her baby, who somehow seemed to know that his existence must be kept clandestine, didn't show that noticeably. She rarely met with the Covenant in person, making things easier, but still, her life was one of constant fear. The door opened, and a haggard Vaughn stepped through, worry permeating the room as he entered. He sat on the couch, head bowed, hands wringing before he spoke, barely above his breath._

"I spoke to Kendall today. He says our time is running out, we won't be able to hide it forever. I'm supposed to fly you out to L.A. tonight. They want to-Syd, they want to induce labor tomorrow."

Her eyes widened, her breath becoming shallow as she stared at him. "Tomorrow? Vaughn, I'm barely seven months along-It's too early!"

"I know. But they think it's safer than waiting. I've been trying to be strong. Since the day _you told me, I've been trying so hard not to be afraid, but Syd, I'm scared. I'm terrified."_

"So am I."

He took her hand, closing his eyes, wishing they would be spared. This was their Gethsemane. And they knew that this cup would not pass them by. They would drink, praying with all their might that it was not poison.  
  
The computers hummed and whirred all around her, making her dizzy as the cold lights glared into her eyes. She could feel her mind becoming foggy, this was becoming more difficult. But she needed to remember, she needed to... 

_The monitors beeped, their sounds her only reassurance that her heart was still beating. The minutes slipped by, stealing the breath from her lungs, asphyxiating her. This wasn't right. It wasn't supposed to be this way. They weren't supposed to be setting up a maternity ward in the basement of a safehouse, weren't supposed to be inducing labor before her baby was ready to come into this dark and angry world. Her hands were clammy and shaky, wrapped in Vaughn's, as he sat by her side. Fear plagued his eyes and she found it strangely comforting, solace coming in the fact that he felt what she was feeling. All that she had felt in the past seven months._

Then, a man descended the stairs, the only man besides Vaughn not donning scrubs. Instead, he was vested in a robe, sweeping and white, trimmed with gold. His hair was thin and silver, his skin wrinkled, but authority and wisdom radiated from his warm, spectacled eyes. As he approached, Vaughn smiled, really grinning for the first time since he had broken the difficult news to him.

"Vaughn, what's going on?" she questioned, curiosity replacing some of her worry. Vaughn brushed back a damp blonde lock of hair behind her ear as he whispered, "The night we conceived this child, I promised you that I would love you forever. As your husband."

He fumbled in his pocket, pulling out a tiny maroon box that matched the one that had held the engagement ring that hung from her neck beneath the hospital gown. Grinning wildly, he opened it, pulling out two identical bands of white gold, handing one to her. She looked at him in awe before the priest clapped a hand on Vaughn's shoulder, greeting him. "Michael Christopher Vaughn. I haven't seen you since you were Confirmed in the eighth grade."  
Vaughn beamed at the older man, whom Sydney could tell he held in high esteem. "It's been too long, Father" he admitted, then lifted Sydney's hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles before introducing them.

"Father Richard, this is Sydney Anne Bristow. My fiancé."

Father Richard stuck out his hand, shaking Sydney's cordially. "It's a real pleasure to meet you, Sydney. I married his parents, you know."

"And yours."

She looked up, surprised, then took in the image of her father, standing at the base of the stairs. "Daddy" she whispered, and he wrapped her in a warm embrace, the kind she hadn't felt from him since she was a little girl. They let go, and he murmured, "Things will be okay, Sweetheart."

"Shall we begin?" Father Richard asked, and they nodded, falling silent as he blessed their future with sacred words that dissipated their anxieties. He spoke of the bond that unified them, unified all husbands to their wives, to the love that reflected Divine love. Then came their part.

"Sydney" Vaughn began, his hands once again grasping hers. They shook, fear and hope, life and death circling them as he continued with the only words he knew. "I love you. I've always loved you, and I always will. Your beauty, your bravery, your compassion, everything that you are amazes me. And it's humbling to know that for some reason, I've been blessed with the honor of being the father of your child. I've seen life before you, and life after you, and I never want to live either again. This is the only life I want; me, you, and our baby. I want to make a home with you. Forever."

She trembled at his words, his honesty, his love. She felt their child kick with joy, and she drew a deep breath.

"Vaughn. You...you are the only one I want to be with me through this, through everything. It's been you, your support, your selflessness that's saved me. We've been through heaven and hell, but we're still here. We're still together, and I know we will be in ten, twenty, an fifty years, because loving you has been the most awe-inspiring experience I have ever had. No matter what happens, _I know we'll make it through, because of you. You're my guardian angel, and the man I want to raise my child with. We're a family."_

Tears coursed down their cheeks, the sheer power of their love was all consuming, filling the cracks in their hearts caused by fear and pain. It was their past, present, and future.

"Do you, Michael Christopher Vaughn, take Sydney Anne Bristow to be your lawfully wedded wife? In sickness, and in health, for richer, and for poorer, for better, and for worse, as long as you both shall live?" Hands shaking as he slid the ring onto her finger.  
"I do."

"Do you, Sydney Anne Bristow, take Michael Christopher Vaughn to be your lawfully wedded husband? In sickness, and in health, for richer, and for poorer, for better, and for worse, as long as you both shall live?" The ring gliding onto his finger as they stared at the beauty of what they were doing.

"I do."  


"_Then, by the power vested in me by the Roman Catholic Church and the State of California, I now pronounce you man and wife."_

_  
"You may kiss the bride."_

Their lips met in the most perfect kiss they would ever share, passion fueling their unquenchable longing for one another, the desire to live and love permeating the tender action. She rested her forehead against his, their breaths mingling as she whispered, "Michael Vaughn, I will love you until the day I die."

His hands caressed her face, fingers grazing the perfect skin he knew so well. He smiled, pressing another kiss to her lips, silently matching her words. She looked up at her father, who kissed her forehead as he asked, "Are you ready?"

Was she ready for this? Was she ready for a dangerous and complicated labor? To know that her child might not be healthy? To have to leave him and her husband for a double life? Her thumb brushed her new wedding band. And she knew, no matter what they faced, her father and Vaughn would be there. She took Vaughn's hand.

"I'm ready."

She bit her lip, the memory of the pain crushing down on her. But she remembered something else, the most painful memory she possessed just as it slipped away from her.

_She stared in shock. She knew it had been complicated. But she was not prepared for this. He lay there in a tiny plastic crib, wires attached to nearly every inch of his tiny body that hadn't yet grown into his wrinkly red skin. A slew of monitors beeped and hummed, recording his below par life functions, and his little lungs struggled to expand, aided by a clear oxygen tent encasing his beautiful little head. Somehow, as if he knew she was there, he opened his eyes._

Emerald.

She cried, stroking his fragile hand with her finger, and he squinted his eyes in concentration as he worked to grasp it. Her mouth fell open, and she watched him in amazement, this beautiful baby boy. A baby boy she was going to leave. Slowly, she lifted the sunny yellow bear she had bought him in her first trimester. The toy had seen her through a barrage of tears and worry, and she thought it was fitting that it do the same for her son. She placed the bear next to him in the crib, and he turned to look at it. She could swear he was smiling.  
"He's beautiful."

She moved her gaze from her tiny son to her tired husband, who wrapped his arms around her, drawing strength from their love.

"Just like his daddy" she whispered, looking from one set of sparkling jade eyes to another. His frail was hand still clasped around her finger. He wasn't giving up. The thought back to the hours spent leafing through the Baby Names book her father had given her during her two week long recovery, and suddenly, she knew.

"Elijah Garret."

She looked at Vaughn.

"God's warrior."

"Elijah Garret is perfect." He bent down, level with his son. "Is that your name? I think it suits you, Little Guy." With a tremendous effort, he kicked his legs, jubilantly, causing hope to surge through his parent's hearts once more. Their little fighter.

"I can't do this" she realized, panicking. "I can't leave him, I can't." Vaughn straightened, sighing before whispering, "You don't have to...we could go away, we could hide." He spoke with a ferocity that she knew stemmed from his love for her, for the family they were trying to build. "We could leave, leave behind everyone and everything. We could."

It dangled, tantalizingly in front of her, just as it would when he proposed it, years later, sick of missing her son's life. She wanted it. She wanted _it so badly. She cried out, stepping back from them._

"I can't!" She sobbed, her body rocking from the force of her sorrow. "I can't even raise my own son! I can't even have a honeymoon! It's not fair-Life should be fair!!" she protested, not caring if she sounded childish. After everything, she deserved a family, she deserved a life with them. But life wasn't fair. It would never be. He stepped forward and held her, tighter than he had ever held her before, afraid she would slip through his fingers.  
"I'll love you until the day I die" he murmured, repeating her words from a week ago, from a moment of rare happiness. She removed her wedding band from her finger, and slid it onto the chain around her neck, concealing it's existence.

And she kissed him, hard. The kiss that would have to last them four years of loneliness, the kiss that would leave them breathless every time it was recalled, the kiss that said goodbye. She looked at them. Her boys. Her family. And, as tears poured down her cheeks, she turned, and walked away.

They were swirling through her mind now, jumbling and intertwining as they drained from her memory.

_Nine months is nothing. There's nothing I'd rather do than marry you, right now. You're pregnant. We created this baby, and we're going to be a family. I'm terrified. I do. I'll love you until the day I die. We'll never be a family. Irises. Candles. Phone calls. "Syd, Eli...he's sick. He got an infection, he's in the hospital. He's fighting it, but Syd...it's bad. He might lose his hearing." I'll love you until the day I die. A little boy with tousled hair, his father pushing him in a swing. 'Wish You Were Here!'_  
It was the last thing she saw as her mind became blank, and she succumbed to the growing fog...

She was cold. Her head ached, and she clutched it as she lifted herself from the hard, wet asphalt. She spun, searching, trying to jog a memory that would explain everything, but nothing came. Panic clutched her heart, and Agent Bristow sidled to the front of her mind, with Sydney curled up in the back. She huddled there, in security, as her rational side dialed a number and spoke to people with answers. Numb, she followed their orders, turning down alleys, and busy streets, as she noted with confusion that she must be in Hong Kong.

She was ushered into a small, dirty room, and she waited, fear and confusion swirling through her. Something dug into her thigh, and she reached into her pocket, retrieving a small plastic case. She pried it open, revealing a silver disc. She looked around, searching for a computer, in vain. 'Where had the disc come from?' she wondered as her hands traced its edges.

_Vaughn smiling. They were going to Santa Barbara. Will's message. Francie's double. Blood._

Panic seized her again, just as the door was thrown open.

"Vaughn" she cried in relief, wrapping her arms around him in security. But something was different about him. He was thinner, more tired, older. She stepped back, away from him, and he tried to regain control of his mind, searching for the right words. She needed time, he needed to explain, but God, he didn't want to. He just wanted her.

"You should sit down" he mumbled, needing to be distanced from her if he was to gain any sort of objectivity. To be able to focus. Trying to find a way to relay their story was harder than he thought it would be. He knew it would be difficult, but he hadn't been able to hold her or kiss her for over three years. Out of fear. A fear they were now free from. _Focus._  
He ran his hand down his face, instantly realizing his mistake as she watched in horror, sliding away from him on her couch.

"Vaughn, why are you wearing that ring?"

TBC... 


	4. Chapter 4: The Telling

IV

He had forgotten about his ring, its continued presence upon his hand for the past three years making it more a part of his body than just a simple piece of jewelry. This was his tie to Sydney, and besides their son, it was his only tangible link to his wife. But now she no longer knew that she was his wife, and he should have foreseen the issues that its presence would raise. He sighed, then inhaled deeply, drawing in the strength he needed to guide her through this.

"Sydney, you're wearing a necklace-" he began. She cut him off, asking sharply, "What does that have to do with it?"

"Just take it out and look at it. Please" he implored her calmly. She complied, suspiciously reaching beneath the collar of her gray sweatshirt to reveal a white gold chain, at the bottom of which hung two rings, the shine of their metal matching the strand from which they hung. One had a single diamond, its beauty shining through in its simplicity. The other was embedded with three small stones: diamond on the left, and a golden orange topaz on the right, flanking a deep, purple amethyst in the center. Birthstones. She stared at the trio of stones, trying to bring the pieces together into an explanation that made even a little bit of sense. She had nothing.

"Vaughn, I don't understand." Her brown eyes implored his green one, hungry for answers, hope and confusion mingling in their gaze.

"I know. There's so much I have to explain, and I'm going to ask you to trust me. I have to start from the beginning and you're going to have a million questions. I promise you I'll answer them all but you have to let me get through everything I need to say." He ran his hand down his face again, smoothing his furrowed brow as the light once again glinted off of the modest metal of his wedding ring. He leaned forward, his forearms resting on his thighs, steadying himself. "This has a happy ending, I swear. But I need you to trust me."

Her eyes were still on the ring, questions storming through her mind, unable to focus on a single one. She exhaled. "Okay. I trust you."

He knew they were in the home stretch now, so close to everything that they had worked towards. The life that they had only dreamed through of all the years living apart, all the life-threatening missions and close calls, all of the missed memories, and the constant, suffocating fear; happiness was in their grasp. But first, she needed to know. How could he relate to her the sheer power of their experience, reliving the pain and the doubt that they could finally be free from? She had a right to know, even if it hurt, even if she was looking at him like she wasn't sure if she knew him at all. Vaughn had rehearsed his words over and over on the flight to bring her back, mapping out what he would say, where he would start, trying to anticipate her questions and prepare satisfactory answers. All that was gone now. It was just them. This story was the foundation upon which they would build their new life, their better life, and it needed to be sound.

"I'm going to start at the beginning. Your fight with Allison Doreen, Francie's double, that's the last thing you remember, right?"

Her eyes narrowed, unsure of what to make of the implications behind his question. There were things she didn't remember, that was clear from rings they wore and the subtle changes in him that only one who knew him as completely as she did would notice. "Yes. What happened, did she survive? Is Will okay?"

He sidestepped her questions, knowing that the hardest information had to be the first that he relayed. "Sydney, that night happened four and a half years ago." Her mouth fell open in surprise, and he braced himself for the barrage of outrage and disbelief he knew that he would soon be the target of.

She stood up, suddenly wary of him and eyeing him mistrustfully. "That's impossible! I don't know what you're trying to do, or who you are-"

He cut her off, keeping his voice calm and steady, remembering how she had warned him, before the procedure, that she would not be so easy to placate. "Sydney, it's me. It's Vaughn. You said you trusted me, and I need to you let me explain it all." He resisted the urge to reach across the table and take her hands into his, knowing that any attempt at physical contact could end with him on the floor and Sydney on the run. Her eyes locked onto him, searching for some sign, some reassurance that he was truly who he said he was, that this was real and he was honest. It was there in his eyes. He looked at her in the way that only Vaughn could, with love and concern so genuine that no one could ever hope to replicate. Slowly, she lowered herself back onto the sofa, mind still reeling. "Four and a half years ago. Why don't I remember a thing?"

"I'll get there" he assured, relieved that she had sat back down. "After your fight with Allison, there was a fire at your apartment. Will was rescued and was taken to the hospital to be treated for his wounds and smoke inhalation. He's been in Witness Protection ever since. Two bodies were also taken from the house." She stayed surprisingly silent, although he could hear her breath coming in slow, steady and controlled. She was trying to stay collected and she was hanging on his every word.

The bodies were…severely burned. They had to test the DNA in the teeth. The first one matched Francie Calfo, but the agency knew that it was really Allison. The second body was also identified. The DNA matched you." He paused, watching as her eyes widened and she drew back, and he could feel his fragile grasp on her belief starting to slip. Vaughn saw her mouth opening up to speak and he quickly continued, feeling his throat tighten and betray him as he did. "You were…gone. Your body was cremated, I scattered your ashes into the ocean, and I lost my mind." Voice breaking, throat dry and stiff, he had to pause for a moment to compose himself. _Why was this so hard? _It had been over four years since her "death", and she had been returned for much longer than he had thought her to be lost forever. Yet still, the grief caught in his chest, as the thought of the world without Sydney Bristow was still the worst pain he had ever experienced. Even describing it now hurt. He knew he had to continue, to finish the story so that she finally had the truth, and he worried that pausing too long would invite a wave of questions. But Sydney graciously stayed quiet, and he silently thanked her for that. She could see how hard this was for him, her own confusion momentarily overcome by her innate desire to ease his pain. Her compassion was his strength, and so he continued.

"For months, all I did was drink. And cry. And talk to you. Like you were sitting right next to me. I knew it was crazy, but I couldn't stop. Until one day, nine months after you had gone, I saw you and you were different. Your hair was blonde. I thought I was remembering one of your aliases, but this version of you was unlike anything my imagination had ever been able to fabricate. You dragged me into the shower, made me shave and bathe for the first time in days, and you felt so real, Syd. I thought I had finally cracked. When I woke up the next day, you had replaced by a massive hangover, as usual. But then I saw that you had left something. An iris, your favorite flower. Then I knew you were real. I sobered up and contacted Kendall to find out what was going on. He told me that your death had been staged by a group called the Covenant, that they kidnapped you and injected your DNA into the teeth of a body they had burned. They then held you captive and tried to break you, to brainwash you into believing that you were an assassin. Someone named Julia Thorne. After nine months, you had convinced them that they had succeeded, and that's how you were able to go free and contact the CIA. Kendall wouldn't let me see you again until I had been fully reinstated. He also had me take a cover job, in case the Covenant was watching me. I became a French Professor at UCLA." At this, a quiet laugh escaped her lips and he shyly smiled back, amazed at her ability to listen his words, to this insane, unbelievable series of events and trust him enough to hear it though until the end. The myriad of questions were still there, he knew, but she was so patient, holding back her barrage for no other reason than that he had asked her too. He continued, trying to hurry his telling to ease her churning mind.

"I also spent the whole month training, every day, taking every test they had for me. Nine months of living off of Jack Daniels wasn't the best thing for my body. But I have never worked harder at anything than I did at being reinstated as your handler. Because the day that I was cleared was the day I would be allowed to contact you again."

He had never shared with her the details of his recovery, the shaking, sickening withdrawal his body had undergone, followed by training so grueling that he had been barely able to stand at the end of each session. He was now paying for the damage he had done to his body in his grief, but it was a punishment he eagerly sought. This self-inflicted penance was spurred by the knowledge that she had been out there, being tortured, while he had rendered himself less than useless. Not anymore. He had been given a second chance to be her protector, her guardian angel, and this time, he would be prepared.

"I contacted you through Kendall's protocol and set up a meet at the inn above _Rousseau_." He was about to continue, unsure of whether she would remember the significance of that place, but she spoke first, breaking the silence that she had held as he had explained. A hint of a smile played upon her lips for the first time, as she murmured, "Our first date." It was only then that he realized that her memory of that night was much fresher than his. To Sydney, their date in Nice had been less than a year ago. To him, it was another lifetime.

"I didn't tell you that I was going to be meeting you instead of Kendall. I wanted it to be a surprise; I wanted everything to be perfect. You coming back saved my life and I wanted to prove to you that I wasn't going to waste it." He drew in a deep breath and for the first time during his story, his sigh was one of contentment and awe for the memory that his mind was replaying. "Seeing you, sober, being able to hold you and actually feel you in my arms…knowing that you weren't a ghost, that you were real and you were mine…Sydney, it was …indescribable." Vaughn had tried to find some word, some adjective that even came close to the emotion of that night, but there was none. If there was one memory that he could return to her, it would be that night. This was their only memory from the past four years not tinged with fear or pain. The pure, sweet, beauty of their love had never shown through more than in their perfect reunion, their act of devotion and adoration culminating in their greatest gift to one another.

"Waking up next to you was like waking up to a new life. We had to go our separate ways again, but it was easier knowing that we were working together once again. Most of our contact for the next month was through phone calls or dead drops. I was so excited for our next meeting face to face. I had picked out that ring and was going to promise you a future that I had no way of knowing we would have. But when I saw you again, I knew that something wasn't right. That was the day you told me you were pregnant."

He paused here, granting a concession on his request for no questions, as he knew that he had just delivered the second most earth-shattering piece of information of the night. For a few seconds, she remained speechless, her once controlled breaths becoming uneven as her hands tangled through her newly brunette strands of hair. "Vaughn…" she tested, and as he didn't stop her, she continued, "I know you want me to wait, to hear you out, but I need to know if we have a child. There's a scar on my stomach that I have never seen before and I cannot just sit quietly and wait to hear whether or not there is a child out there somewhere, or if something happened…" Her words trailed off, stifled by her growing fears of learning that she had had a child only to find out that they had been lost long ago.

"We have a son. He's in L.A. right now, at our home. Your father is watching him until we get back." Her hand covered her mouth, a breath that she hadn't been conscious of holding escaping her lips. It was at the same time a sob and a sigh of relief, a quiet, grateful prayer that for once, life wasn't _that _cruel.

"He's okay?"

"He's okay" Vaughn affirmed, retracing the path that his words had taken to once again find his hold in their past. "We got lucky, Syd. The Covenant primarily issued your orders over the phone, and you were able to hide your pregnancy with baggy clothes. But by seven months, it was getting too risky. You were showing too much to hide it anymore, and the Covenant was planning an upcoming job where you would be working with a team. It was either risk inducing labor at 30 weeks or go into hiding. We knew that we would never be truly safe with the Covenant still at large, and going on the run while you were pregnant would have been even more dangerous. So you flew out to L.A., where CIA doctors had set up a delivery room in a safehouse. That was where we were married."

Sydney tried to imagine what that must have been like, being forced to make a decision that could have ended her baby's life. She had had her own life and others' in her hands more times than she could care to count, but her own child's? In that moment, she felt a surge of respect for what her father faced every day. What that was parenthood was? Having to pick the least bad option and hope for the best? Maybe not to the rest of the world, but for Bristows, the spy game would always interfere with their ability to ever guarantee with any certainty that their families were not in danger.

"They had to induce labor, and the baby was under a lot of stress. His heart rate kept rising too high and we were afraid it was too much for him, so they performed an emergency C-section. That's where you got that scar." Sydney's arms, which had been wrapped tightly around her midsection, as if her child still lingered there, now moved to feel beneath the hem of her shirt. Her fingers brushed against the unfamiliar raised marks, the only visible marker on her lean abdomen that she had ever carried a child.

"He was the tiniest little guy I had seen" he continued, shaking his head at the memory of how fragile his son had once been. They had no pictures to mark their child's birth, but Vaughn didn't need any to remember how beautiful and helpless he had looked all at once, his little body small enough to lay across his father's outstretched palms. "He was just two pounds, thirteen ounces, and they immediately placed him in an oxygen tent under a jaundice lamp. Things were up in the air for a while, but he never stopped fighting."

"He was born in February, wasn't he?" she asked, holding up the chain where her wedding ring hung, the violet birthstone gleaming from its center.

"February 7th. We named him Elijah Garrett. But unless he's in trouble, it's just Eli" he finished, watching her nod slowly as she contemplated the name.

"Eli" she murmured, her senses taking in the sound, the taste, the feel of the name as it left her lips. "I like it."

"Of course you do, you picked it out" he teased, glad for a lighthearted reprieve from the heavy tone of their account. "You had two weeks to recover. After that, you had to return to Italy to prepare for the Covenant job at the end of the month."

"Two weeks? I left my baby in critical condition when he was two weeks old?" Her indignation with her past self was apparent in the way her voice quavered, her eyes set in a hard expression as she tried to come to grips with a woman that she could no longer remember being.

"Sydney, believe me when I say it was the hardest thing you ever had to do. You almost didn't go." '_Because of me_' he added in his mind, remembering how he had tempted her with the empty dream that a life in hiding could result in happiness instead of paralyzing fear. "But you were stronger than me. You knew that the only way that we would ever be safe was for you to go back and destroy them from within."

"Still…" She shook her head slowly, her heart full of guilt for a choice she hadn't known that she had made. Even though she knew in her head that her decision had been the right one in the end, it didn't make it easier knowing that she had left her child behind. '_Just like my own mother_' a small voice in her head accused, playing upon the nagging insecurity that had always been present in the back of her mind but had been amplified in the minutes since she had learned that she had given birth to and subsequently left her newborn baby. Her lifelong desire to become a mother had always been rivaled by her doubts about her ability to be a good one. Now, she felt as though those doubts were being affirmed, like some inescapable prophecy was being fulfilled.

"You did the right thing. For all of us" he insisted, sensing her self-deprecation and hating that he wasn't able to convey to her his admiration and gratitude for the sacrifices that she had made. He reached across the table, making contact for the first time since their initial embrace. His fingers wrapped around her, reassuring. "You are a good mother. If you weren't you, exactly how you are, we never would have made it this far. You left to keep us safe." His efforts were received with a half-smile, her reluctance to forgive herself mingling with her appreciation for his unfailing ability to always see the best in her.

"The night you flew back, Eli was admitted into the NICU at UCLA under the name 'Baby Doe' with the cover story that he had been abandoned at the hospital. I actually had to fill out the paperwork to adopt our son. After a month and a half, he was finally strong enough to come home, but his immune system was still vulnerable because he was premature. He was three months old when he contracted pneumococcal meningitis." Like it had when he described her death, his voice began to fail him again. His throat constricted, the memories storming through his mind as vivid as if he was once again back in that hospital, looking upon the face of his feverish infant and hearing his pained whimpers. He had never felt more helpless than he had that week, watching his son begin his second battle for a life that he had barely begun. Alone, lost, and terrified that he knew nothing about being a parent, let alone a parent to a child whose every day was a battle. It was during this bedside vigil that their brotherhood had been formed, Jack, Michael, and Eric, standing shoulder to shoulder amidst the uncertainty. Each had committed sleepless nights and restless days to watch over the smallest member of their group, their love pouring out not only for the child but for the mother who could not be acknowledged.

"He survived. Like I said, he's a fighter like his mom. But the medication caused him to lose hearing in both ears. He's almost completely deaf." Vaughn hated that he had to relay this news to his wife for the second time in their lives. The first time, the impact of their son's condition had been softened by the overwhelming relief that he had survived. Then, they had been in the middle of their story; now, they were looking back with perspective, knowing where they had ended and retracing the steps it had taken to get there.

"He's deaf" she repeated, "But he's okay."

"Yes. He's happy, and healthy, and loved." Their son had lost his hearing, but not his love of life, his smiles and giggles so frequent that no one could ever say that he was anything less than perfect.

"That's all I need."

And he marveled at how instantly and effortlessly her maternal love had emerged; love for a child she had never recalled kicking within her womb or resting within her arms, love for a child whose existence was unknown to her a mere hour ago. Yet somehow, he was unsurprised, as the depth of her heart had yet to reveal to him a limit.

"So we continued to work to take down the Covenant. They would assign you a target to assassinate, you would fake the mark's death and instead deliver them into CIA custody. As they were all enemies of the Covenant that we had saved, most were cooperative. We learned that their operations were immense, larger even than the Alliance had been at its downfall. But you kept on, and slowly, we were able to chip away at their hold. The last mission that they sent you on, you were meant to assassinate a high-ranking Covenant official who was planning on selling information that was crucial to their survival. Not only were you supposed to kill him, but you were also supposed to retrieve all electronic and hard copies of the intel. You returned the data to the Covenant, but you delivered the man to us. We used his inside knowledge to organize the raid that happening as we speak. The Covenant is falling, and it's because of you."

His expression was now one of triumph, his pride in his wife's determination shining through every word he spoke. "Why don't I remember any of this?" she implored, unable to share in his joy until she had finally made sense of their journey.

"The Covenant knew that the files you retrieved from your target could mean their downfall. They trusted you to deliver it to them, but not enough to let you walk around with the information they contained. You were summoned in for what they were calling a psych evaluation, but we intercepted a communique that indicated that they were going to use a new technology to selectively erase your memory until you remembered nothing about their existence."

"Why would they go through the trouble of erasing my memory and leaving me here? Why wouldn't they just kill me?" she questioned, echoing the same concerns that she had two weeks ago, when they had first learned of the Covenant's plan.

"Syd, the Covenant spent months reconditioning you to believe that you were Julia Thorne. They thought that they had succeeded, but the training your father had implemented when you were a child made it impossible for you to be turned. The Covenant had no idea that you had been a double agent all along and they knew that you would return to the CIA once they left you here. They probably thought that they could reactivate your conditioning once the information was rendered useless, and this time, you'd be perfectly placed within the agency. But that won't happen because you were always you, and after tonight, they aren't going to exist. We did it. We won." The tension in his shoulders had started to dissipate for the first time in four years, as he reached the conclusion of their saga, the only thing needed now being time.

"Francie is dead and Will's in Witness Protection" she stated, thinking that maybe saying the facts out loud would make them easier to accept. She had missed more than four and a half years of her own life and was trying to catch up, starting at the only place she knew. "What about my father? My mother? Dixon, Marshall, Weiss…did we ever catch Sloane?"

"Your father has been in and out of the country, working to infiltrate Covenant circles and making sure that your double agent status hadn't been discovered. He's never officially admitted to this, but I'm pretty sure that he has been working with your mother and her contacts to keep you safe. Like I said, Eli is crazy about him. He stayed home from the raids to watch him until we get back. Dixon has been overseeing the operation to dismantle the Covenant and Weiss is leading the team that's raiding their Las Vegas location. Marshall has been on the case too, along with his wife, Carrie. The NSA agent, who was brought in to assist with cracking the Rambaldi mystery."

"Marshall got married?" she asked, surprised with the positive news. After hearing what had befallen Francie and Will, she had braced herself for even worse information regarding the rest of those that she held close.

"Yeah, and they have two sons, Mitchell is only a few months younger than Eli and they beg us for playdates like every week. Carrie just had their second baby, Alex, not too long ago."

She smiled, her happiness for her friend overshadowed only by her last concern. "And Sloane?"

His smile faltered and he knew that she was not going to like what he had to say. "The operative that was planning on selling out the Covenant; Syd, it was Sloane. You brought him into CIA custody and he provided the intel to take them down."

Her calm acceptance was gone, replaced with an indignation that he had known to expect. "We trusted Sloane? He did the same thing with the Alliance, he only let us destroy them because that's what he wanted! How could we possibly think that he isn't just using us again to achieve his endgame?"

"I know, Sydney. We had this same conversation last month, when you received the order to assassinate him. But in the end, you were the one that decided that this was how we would proceed." That changed her expression again, as she once again tried to wrestle with the choices that her former self had made. "Why would I ever agree to trust that man again?"

"Because no matter how much you still hate him, no matter what he put you through, the Covenant was that much worse. We knew that he had never been truly loyal to them; Arvin Sloane serves only himself. And we were able to take him into custody, he's being held in maximum security, solitary confinement. We don't know what he's up to yet, but whatever it is, we'll be prepared. Using him was our only way of taking down the Covenant, and at this point, that's all we cared about. You just wanted to come home."

_Home_. The word had meant so many things to Sydney over the course of her life. First it had been with her parents, then something that she longed her house to be. When she had met Francie, Will, and Danny, she had found it again, but they had been taken from her, along with the spaces that they had once shared. Falling in love with Vaughn had made her believe that she could have a home again, despite all of the ones that she had loved and lost. Now, he was before her, his heart, his eyes, his voice, all begging her to return to him, to once again build up a place of sanctuary and warmth, to have something that she had dreamed of since she was a girl: family.

She ran her fingers along the edge of her necklace, resting them finally around the rings that were her link to her new life, to a chance at happiness that she had only dared to dream about.

"Vaughn, let's go home."


	5. Chapter 5: The Journey Home

Author's note: Yes, this was supposed to be a five parter. But, after this incredibly long chapter, I have decided that I will post the Epilogue as a separate chapter hopefully by the end of the week. Please review!

* * *

V.

Vaughn fumbled with the zipper of the backpack that he had left stowed beneath his seat on the plane, his haste making his actions clumsy. Extracting a drawstring bag, he straightened up, holding it out to the woman seated across from him. "I, uh, bought you some clothes. I'm sorry if they don't fit, I tried to get the right size but I forgot to ask you before you went under, I should have-"

"Vaughn" she stopped him, taking the bag from his hands. "They're perfect."

"You haven't even tried them on yet" he said with a smile. "I thought you might like a shower, I know how that helps you clear your head."

"This plane has a shower?" she asked with a surprised smile, looking around at the clean, comfortable interior of the plane. He laughed at her simple delight. It had been so long since he had seen her truly smile, and right now it was remarkable. "Yeah, they CIA kind of splurged on this trip. Considering you've been the key agent in the takedown of two of the world's most dangerous terrorist organizations, I think it was the least they could do."

She looked at the floor, her humility preventing her from acknowledging his compliment. When she returned his gaze, she was still smiling, but now it was shy, slightly reserved. "A shower sounds great. The streets of Hong Kong aren't exactly the cleanest place to wake up" she concluded, stepping past him to make her way towards the back of the plane where the door to the bathroom lay. She opened it, revealing a small but well-furnished bathroom. In the corner stood the shower, next to a large cupboard built into the wall, its shelves stocked with soap and towels. On the floor, she placed the drawstring bag Vaughn had given her, stripping out of the grimy jeans she had been found in. As she slid off her pants, she was reminded of the plastic case with the computer disc that lay buried within her pocket. She would have to remember to ask Vaughn about it when she was done showering. Lifting the gray sweatshirt over her head, her eyes once again fell upon the unfamiliar scar that marked her stomach. Her fingers traced its thin line, wondering when its presence would no longer be a surprise. She wondered the same about the chain she wore around her neck, fingering the cool metal bands before unclasping the hook and setting the necklace onto the edge of the sink. From that spot, the stones sparkled up at her, diamond, topaz, amethyst. '_Me, Vaughn, Eli_' she thought as she moved away from the sink to step into the shower, turning the handle and relishing in the cool spray it released. As the water cascaded down her aching back and shoulders, she repeated the last name softly to herself. "Eli…Eli…" She tried to make it sound familiar, to commit to memory the way the name formed on her lips, trying to make it come as easily as "Vaughn" did now after years of practice.

'Vaughn' she thought, closing her eyes as she scrubbed the soap down her arms and chest and reveling in the feeling of layers of sweat and dirt being pulled from her skin. She was married to Vaughn. She was his wife. There was no doubt in her mind that she loved him. Although she had never said it before the fire, she had felt it for longer than she had admitted to even herself. It had scared her at first, how deeply she felt and how quickly she had fallen for him. Yet he had managed to quell that fear, his affirmations of his dedication and loyalty making her sure that no matter what the world brought, he would be there, by her side. Even while their relationship was still young, she had sometimes let her mind wander to thoughts growing old with him, having his children, sharing his home. She just never thought that it would happen overnight. Marriage and motherhood were permanent commitments, and she hardly felt capable of taking care of herself right now, let alone a husband and child. Even after Vaughn's explanations, there was still so much she had to learn, '_no,_ _relearn' _she reminded herself, about her own life.

What if she wasn't a good mom? Her own mother hadn't exactly been the best role model. Both she and Irina had left their families when the world of espionage demanded it. Who was to say she was any better than the other woman? _'I wasn't betraying my husband and child'_ she reminded herself._ 'I was protecting them.' _Still, it hurt to know that her son had lived so long without a mother. When she was growing up, she had always promised herself that she would never let anything take her away from her children. She knew firsthand how painful it was to lose a parent and had been determined to keep her future family from that. Life hadn't exactly worked out the way that she had imagined.

Rinsing the last of the lather from her hair, Sydney let the water pour down her face and chest one last time before turning the handle and ending the stream. She didn't feel any closer to working out the deluge of information that she had received from Vaughn, but at least she felt cleaner. Wrapping one towel around her sopping hair, Sydney grabbed a second one from the shelf and began to dry her body. When the droplets had been absorbed from her skin, she opened the drawstring bag, pulling out a pair of jeans, a soft, white sweater, socks, and undergarments, along with a small toiletry kit. She dressed, smiling as she found that the clothes, as she had assured Vaughn, did in fact fit perfectly. With her damp hair pulled back in a simple ponytail, all that remained were the rings that lay still entwined on the edge of the basin. Sydney reached for them, slipping off the chain and putting it into her pocket. The rings lay in her palm as she contemplated them, before slowly sliding them on. She held up her hand, studying the way the metal contoured to her ring finger and the stones caught the light. Their weight was unfamiliar, yet not unpleasant. Like all the changes that had seemed to occur so rapidly, it would take getting used to.

Sydney retrieved the disc case from her jeans pocket before gathering her dirty clothes from the floor and piling them into the bag. Carrying these items, she opened the bathroom door and stepped back into the body of the plane as Vaughn sat with his back to her, finishing a conversation on a satellite phone. He turned as he heard her approach. "That was Weiss. We did it, Syd. The Covenant cells are in ruins, they're just cleaning up the aftermath now." She smiled. "Eric's okay then?" she asked.

"Are you kidding? He just took point on one of the most important operations the joint task force has ever led. The guy's gonna be insufferable for months." She laughed softly. "How do you feel?" he asked, noticing the fatigue in her eyes although she tried to hide it. "Still trying to wrap my head around everything" she answered honestly, shaking her head slightly as though that would clear her clouded mind. "I can't believe I'm 33, I don't even remember turning 29."

It was his turn to laugh despite the heaviness of their situation. "Out of everything, that's the thing you can't get past?" he teased. "It's concrete" she countered with a shrug. The objectivity of numbers was easy to grasp, where abstract ideas of matrimony and maternity were harder to get ahold of.

He nodded, understanding, and reached up to relieve her of the bag she was carrying. As he grabbed it from her, he brushed the rings where they now rested on her finger. Cautiously, he asked, "You put them on?" She held her hand out for him to see. "I wanted to see how it felt" she explained shyly. He took her hand, running his thumb across the skin just below the curve of the rings. "What do you think?" he asked, optimistic. "It's different, but good" she finished, giving his hand a gentle squeeze before releasing it.

Realizing that he was still clutching the bag, he turned away, stuffing it back into the backpack beneath his seat. When he looked back at her, she was holding out a small case, through which he could see the spectrum of color glinting off of an enclosed disc. "I found this in my pocket. Do you know what it is?" He took the case from her, examining its unmarked edges before prying it open. "Yeah, I think I do, although I don't know why you had it on you during the procedure. That was risky."

"Why, what is it?" she asked, curious about anything that could help shed any more light on the years she had lost. "Come here, I'll show you." She moved to take the seat to his right while he once again dug into the backpack, this time producing a slim laptop computer. He placed it upon his knees, enduring the whirs and beeps of its startup until it was ready for him to open the tray and slide the disc into the player. The computer hummed momentarily until the file started automatically, revealing the sight of a tousle-haired toddler before a birthday cake, a familiar voice narrating the scene. Sydney's mouth fell open and she covered it with her hand, gasping quietly. "That's our son?" she asked, eyes fixated upon the smiling boy with beautifully familiar green eyes. "That's Eli" he assured gently, watching her drink in the image of the child for whom they had risked it all. "God, he's beautiful" she muttered as the stillframes began to play, one after the other, revealing to her the son that she had never gotten to hold. He was a miniature version of the man she loved with the bright green eyes, dimpled chin, and tousled hair that she had become so accustomed to. She sat in silence, transfixed by the images on the screen before her. As the last picture faded, small tears had begun to fall and she sobbed gently as Vaughn wrapped her in an embrace. "I can't believe I've missed so much of his life already" she choked into his collar, squeezing her eyes shut as she buried her face against his shoulder. "Shh…" he soothed, brushing the tears from her cheek with a caress. "You _saved_ his life. And you'll be there now." She was silent, and he thought for a moment that he had consoled her. Then, she whispered in a small voice, "What if he doesn't like me?"

He pulled back, pushing gently against her shoulders so that they were face to face. "Syd" he breathed incredulously, "He's waited for you his whole life. He loves you already." Lifting his hand, he wiped away more tears before sweeping away a stray lock of hair and tucking it behind her ear. His fingers lingered there for a moment, relishing the fact that the soft strands were once again the brunette he loved. Julia was gone, she was just his Sydney again. "You're going to be a great mother. I know because you already are. All these years, you've done what's best for him, even when it almost killed you. He knows you never wanted to leave. You're _his _guardian angel."

Finally the tears had subsided as his hand still lovingly caressed her face. "Do you believe me?" he asked softly, wanted to know if his words had reached her at all. No one was harder on herself than Sydney and he knew that if he didn't quell this guilt and doubt that they would consume her and keep her from the happiness that she so deserved. In response, she gave a small nod. "I'm trying."

"Okay" he relented. "You should rest, you've got to be exhausted." To his surprise, she didn't fight him on this, but nodded again. "I am pretty beat" she agreed. He wrapped his arm protectively around her shoulder and she leaned against his chest. His hands rubbed the tension from her shoulders, feeling her breathing slow. As he pressed a kiss to her temple, she asked sleepily, "Who took all those pictures?"

"Weiss" he said with a laugh that shook them both. "He brings that camera with him any time we're out with Eli. Says chicks love guys that are good with kids." Her eyes still closed, she let out a small chuckle. "How's that working out for him?" "Not great." He brushed her hair back from her forehead. "I can't tell you how many times women at the park have told me how lucky my son is to have two such devoted dads."

This time, the laughter was shared, their bodies easing back into the comfortable rhythm that had been theirs so long ago. Vaughn closed his eyes, resting his head against his wife's shoulder as she lay curled against his chest. Breathing in the scent of her hair, he exhaled slowly, finally letting the exhaustion of the day settle in. He had been awake since the previous night, pacing his bedroom nervously and clutching his phone so tightly that it left marks on his palm. There had been no way to know when the call would come, where she would turn up, or if the procedure had caused any brain damage. The second the agency had notified him that she had made contact, he had grabbed his keys, nodding to Jack as he passed him where he sat monitoring one of the raids from the computer that he had set up in the living room. As he headed towards the door, he looked back at his father-in-law, and then at the room where his son lay sleeping. "Tell him she's coming home." With that, he had left, heart pounding and hands shaking.

The plane ride over had been no easier, rehearsing and rearranging the words in his head, trying to find the perfect combination of things to say to make the news less earth-shattering. All of the worry and doubt of the past four years had reached a crescendo, and it would only subside when came face-to-face with the woman on the other side of the door in that dirty Hong Kong safehouse. Now on the plane, the weariness had set in fully, no longer staved off by the adrenaline from fear. The emotional toll of ushering his wife into their new life together had been harder than he had thought, but now she was here and they could finally start to rebuild. But first, they rested.

* * *

As tired as she had been on the plane, Sydney was now wide awake on the drive from the airport. Her knee bounced nervously as they sped along the highway, out of the city proper. Vaughn stilled it with a smile and a gentle hand on her thigh. "It's gonna be great, babe."

"I know" she said, covering his hand with hers. What she didn't know was what she would say, or rather, sign, when she met her son for the first time. What would she do? Did he want her to hug him, or would he shy away? She didn't know. Vaughn had done his best to sooth her nerves, but still she worried. _'It wasn't every day that you met your child for the first time' _she mused. They stayed quiet for the rest of the drive, anticipation stilling their lips as they could not find words to voice what they were feeling. The streets they grew smaller as they exited the highway, from four lanes, to two lanes, until they were on a slim gravel road. The road would uphill, the golden glow of the sunset filtering through the trees that lined the path. She drew in her breath as the glare moved off of a metal sign posted on their right and she made out the words, "Deaf Child at Play." Then, through a break in the dense woods that flanked them on either side, Sydney caught a glimpse of a house nestled in a clearing. The comfortably sized cottage had stone walls, the leaves of the ivy hugging the surface rippling in the breeze. Sunlight glinted off of the slate roof tiles and as they turned the corner, she saw the bright colors of the flowers spilling out of the planters that stood on either side of the stoop leading up to a red front door. It reminded her of something out of the books her mother had read to her as a child, full of magic and wonder.

"This is your house?" she hushed, stunned, as they pulled onto the driveway beside the house next to what she recognized was her father's nondescript black sedan. "This is our house" he corrected with a smile, pleased with her reaction. "I bought it when I found out that you were pregnant. Do you like it?" She hadn't taken her eyes off of the sight as she stared out the window. "I love it." He squeezed her hand reassuringly before opening his door and stepping out of the car. He walked around to her side, opening the door for her and offering his hand. "Let's go in."

Shakily, she stood, her nervousness returning as they walked up to the house. Vaughn extracted the house key from the others on the keyring and fitted it into the lock. Opening the door, he called out, "Jack? We're here." Sydney followed him inside, taking in the sight of their home. The inside looked just as comfortable as the exterior had led her to imagine, the cream colored walls decorated with images of the people she loved the most. Her son, whose image she was growing accustomed to, along with her husband, his best friend, and even one photograph with her father, a rare smile broadening his usually serious face. Now the man himself stood before her, looking at her with more love than she had ever seen from her father. "Sydney" he breathed as he wrapped his strong arms tightly around her. "Hi, Daddy" she murmured into his embrace, reassuring her of her presence as she ran her hand across his shoulder. He released his hold, hands remaining on her arms to take a long look at his daughter who had been away for so long. "Sweetheart, I'm so glad you're home."

"Thanks, Dad" she replied with a glowing smile at the thought that becoming a grandfather had softened his heart. "Eli's in his room. I'll go get him." Jack left the couple standing near the doorway as he crossed the living room and through a partially open door. Sydney bit her lip, her heart and mind racing as she tried to prepare herself for what was about to occur. A small figure bounded up to her, catching her by surprise and almost knocking her to the ground. "Donnie!" she exclaimed, scratching the old bulldog behind his ears as he panted happily. "Easy, boy" she soothed as he scratched at her legs in an attempt to be closer to her. "He missed you" Vaughn remarked as she crouched down, level with their loveable dog as he began incessantly licking at her face.

"And so did he." Jack had returned to the living room, his hand on the back of a small green-eyed boy who was staring at Sydney as if she weren't real. For a second, they were rooted to the spot, as for the first time their eyes took in the real vision of the person their heart had always longed for. She was still crouched next to Donovan so their eyes were level, and the amount of love she felt at that moment was overwhelming. Ever since Vaughn had told her about their child, she had tried to imagine how it would feel to see him for this first time. Nothing she had imagined had even come close. This was indescribable, unimaginable love. There was no thought, no hesitation, all of her worry and fear had vanished the moment she laid eyes on her son. Slowly, he raised his hands, his little fingers forming the letters of the name that was for her alone. _'Mommy.' _She nodded, tears spilling down her face as he ran, barreling across the room until he was in her arms. She held him tightly, her body instantly recognizing the touch of the child she had carried beneath her heart for over half a year. "Hi, baby" she whispered into his hair, her fingers tangling in the thick strands that were the same shade as his father's. Eli had his arms wrapped as tightly as he could around her neck, as if he was afraid she would disappear. Sydney memorized everything about him in an instant: the smell of his hair, the shape of his eyes, the feel of his chubby fingers as they pressed against her cheeks.

When they pulled apart, she lifted her hands, her knowledge of sign language coming back to her as she tried to communicate to her son everything that she was feeling. _'Eli' _she started, her little boy hanging onto every movement. _'I've been waiting to meet you for a very long time. I know I've been gone, but I'm here now. I'm here with you and I'm never going away again.' _She searched his face for understanding and saw a pain in his eyes that one so young should never know. _'Promise?' _he asked, the palm of his left hand coming to rest on his closed fist. _'I promise' _she answered solemnly, her hands mirroring his actions. His face broke into a toothy smile as he grabbed her hand, pulling her to a standing position as he led her back through the door he had come out of with her father.

Jack and Vaughn had watched the tender interaction, a half smile gracing the older man's face while tears welled in the eyes of the younger man. Jack recalled with ease the moment he had first laid eyes on his daughter, how life-changing that had been. Witnessing her now sharing that same moment with her own child had been nothing short of incredible. The men followed mother and child through the door to Eli's bedroom, where they found the two sitting on the bed. Elijah had already arranged all of his favorite stuffed animals in a line in front of Sydney and was now teaching her their names. He saved the bear for last, showing her that she had been with him this whole time. Pressing the yellow bear into her hands, he grinned and clapped, reuniting the symbol of his mother's love with her actual presence. Jack placed his hand on his daughter's shoulder and she looked up. "Dinner's in the oven, it should be done in a few minutes" he began. She noticed how he signed every word, although he was not directly speaking to Eli, allowing him to follow the conversation, and she felt a surge of appreciation for her father's compassion for his grandchild. "I'll let you three get reacquainted."

She hugged him, feeling closer to her father than she ever had before. "Thank you. For everything." Sydney placed a kiss on his cheek, smiling at her dad. Eli bounded across the bed, throwing himself between them and tackling his grandfather in a loving hug. Jack squeezed back before signing, _'Be a good boy. I'll see you soon.' 'Bye Papa' _his grandson signed back, releasing his hold and sitting back down on his dinosaur patterned comforter. Jack turned to his son-in-law, shaking his hand and patting him on the back. The men shared a nod, a look of understanding passing between them as Jack let himself out.

Elijah had once again grabbed his mother's hand and her attention, showing her the cork board hung in the corner of his room where Vaughn had pinned up all of his drawings. He was explaining each one with rapid hand movements when the oven timer sounded. Vaughn moved instantly, heading to the kitchen to check on the food that Jack had prepared. _'Dinner's ready' _she signed with a smile, taking his hand and leading him to the kitchen behind her husband. Vaughn had already opened the oven, using potholders to withdraw a baking dish and set it atop the stove. _'Lasagna'_ she noted with a smile, realizing that she hadn't had her father's signature dish since before her mother had left. She helped Eli into the booster seat that allowed him to reach the table before taking the chair to his side.

The night was surreal, the changes that had occurred, to Sydney, so rapidly still working themselves out in her mind. Last night she had been in the car with Vaughn, about to take their first vacation together as a couple. Tonight, she was sitting beside him at the dinner table, in their home, with their son, having a family meal that her father had made. It made no sense and yet there was a tranquility to this night that she couldn't place, a sense that everything was as it was meant to be. They spent the rest of the quiet evening sitting on the floor of Eli's room, playing with his toys, learning his favorite colors, looking through his favorite books. Vaughn had let him stay up past his bedtime as he couldn't bring himself to put an end to the sight he had longed to see for four long years; his wife and son, together at last.

However, when Eli began to rub at his eyes, a large yawn widening his mouth, his father told him, _'Time for bed.' _As he had expected, Eli fought against this idea, giving in only when Sydney assured him that she would be there as soon as he awoke in the morning. They read him three bedtime stories instead of his usual one, Sydney giving in easily to her son's pleading. During the final story, he drifted to sleep despite his attempts to keep his eyes open. Sydney stroked his hair as she and Vaughn lay on either side of him on the bed. "I can't believe we made something so perfect" she whispered in awe, moving her gaze from her son to her husband. "It's pretty incredible, isn't it?" he affirmed, tucking the blanket a little closer around their sleeping boy. She nodded. "And it's only day one." She covered her mouth with her hand as she stifled a small yawn. "We should probably get to bed, too" Vaughn prompted. She pressed one last kiss to Eli's forehead before extricating herself from the bed and the pile of stuffed animals that he had built up around them. Vaughn followed, finding his wife standing in the middle of the living room, surveying the life and home that he had painstakingly prepared for them.

"Thank you" she said in a voice thick with emotion, one hand tangling itself in his hair as the other pulled him close to her. "You raised our son, you gave me a beautiful home, and I can't imagine how hard all of this must have been for you." His thumb brushed her cheek, his fingertips resting on the back of her neck as he tilted her face ever so slightly towards his. "I did it for us" he said simply. "For our family." "Thank you" she breathed once more before his lips crashed against hers. His passion and hunger startled her, the depth of his need awakening feelings deeper than those she had ever felt before. There was something behind his kisses, somewhere that she had once been with him but now had no recollection of. It was as if she was drowning in him, the longing and the sheer emotion he was outpouring washing over her in waves of intensity. She placed a hand to his chest, pulling back, gasping for air as his mouth left hers.

Instantly, he was mortified, a look of fear and shame tainting his emerald eyes. "God, Syd, I'm sorry. It's too fast, I wasn't thinking of you." He shook his head at his own selfishness, running a hand through his hair and leaving it pressed against his forehead, as if to hide his misplaced guilt. He spoke again, his words jumbled in his haste to apologize "I don't want to rush you-I know this is going to take time. For me it's been almost five years since we've been able to be together but that's all gone for you."

"Vaughn-" she interjected, gently taking his wrist and lowering his hand so that it no longer obscured his eyes. "I'm not going to pretend that today wasn't difficult. I thought that I had lived through some crazy things before, but this tops them all. But if my life is determined to be madness, then there is no one that I would rather have by my side than you. You're my rock, my one constant. You're my guardian angel. You've spent the past four years raising our son and trying to keep both him and I safe. I can't thank you enough for that. And yes, it is going to take me awhile to adjust to all these changes but the good news is we have the rest of our lives to rediscover each other." He raised his eyes to hers, overwhelmed by the love and compassion he saw in her gaze.

"And I think I know where to start" she finished, closing the gap that had come between them and pressing her lips to his. His arms wrapped around her, strong and sure, and he lifted the way he had done so many years before. Their kiss never broke as he carried her over the threshold of their bedroom. They had been robbed of a proper wedding night but tonight was their second chance. Tonight was the night that their family was truly united, the apex of all of the moments spent alone and afraid, the promise of a life together only a distant dream.

Tenderly, they explored each other's scars, the lines that marked the years that had passed since they had shown their love this way. With each kiss, she reminded him of the passion and excitement that they had shared when their love was young. With each touch, he showed her the depth and magnitude that their love had grown in her forgotten five years. She was the past and he was the present, colliding gloriously as they took their first step towards the future.

A blissful hour later they lay entangled beneath the sheets of their marriage bed, her head resting on his chest, listening to the beat of the heart that had always belonged to her. His arms encircled her back, one hand tracing abstract patterns across her shoulders and the other toying with the hem of the sheet where it lay across the curve of her hips. "How are you?" he asked tentatively, the vibrations of his voice reverberating beneath her palm where it was pressed upon his side. Sydney lifted her chin, resting it against his breastbone as she looked up at him. "Pretty good, actually" she answered with an easy smile. "I suppose there are worse people that I could've woken up married to."

Vaughn laughed. "Glad to know I'm not last on the list." She cocked her head to side as she answered cheekily, "Not last. Maybe second to last." She was caught off guard when Vaughn's hands moved quickly, expertly finding the spots on her ribcage where she was incredibly ticklish. "Vaughn!" she cried out in surprise, followed by involuntary laughter. "Stop" she wheezed, but he continued until she acquiesced, "Fine! You're not second to last either." He stopped tickling her and she caught her breath as he said, "That's better." But the playful nature of their love came so effortlessly to her, so she continued to tease, "I mean, I had been hoping for Brad Pitt…" She paid for her jest with another with another round of tickling, his actions motivated both by revenge and by a pure desire to hear her laughter. "Okay, okay!" she relented, but he had learned from last time and didn't release her until she gasped, "You're the one. You're the only one." He smiled as he ended his assault, once again hugging her close as her labored breathing returned to normal.

She lifted her hand to his face, fingertips tracing the creases in his brow, down his stubbled cheek and ending at his chin. Her tone was serious now, soft and low and laced with love. "Somehow, I've always known it would be you" she professed honestly, placing a gentle kiss to his cheek. Looking into his eyes, her voice shaking with conviction, she whispered, "I love you, Michael Vaughn." His hand repeated her actions, brushing hair away from her face with a tender movement, lightly caressing her cheek as he did so. "I love you too, Sydney Vaughn."

She wrinkled her nose, cringing at the clash of names. "Maybe I should start calling you Michael more." "Nah" he said, knowing that the fact that she only seldom used his first name was part of what made it so powerful when she did. "How about Sydney Bristow-Vaughn?" She smiled at that, the name that linked her to her father making the title more familiar. Sydney kissed him, relishing in the tender clash of lips and tongues before pulling back, resting her forehead against his as she murmured, "I could get used to that."

Vaughn kissed her deeply again, his hand on the small of her back pressing her bare torso against his in an almost unbearably arousing manner. Her breathing was heavy as he broke their kiss, both overwhelmed by the sheer power that the other had over them. "Before I forget" he breathed, his nose brushing against her ear, "we have to make sure we have some clothes on before we fall asleep." Her brow furrowed in confusion at his strange request, remembering all of the nights they had fallen asleep in nothing but the sheets. He began to trail kisses down her neck, making it hard for her to remember what they had been talking about. "Why?" she asked, distracted. "Oh, you'll see" was his only reply, smiling against her skin as he began again the slow, beautiful process of rediscovering his bride all over again.

* * *

Sydney awoke with a start, a pair of knees pressing her down against the bed and momentarily knocking the breath from her lungs. Her eyes shot open, her training and instincts gearing up before she realized that the eyes looking down on her belonged to her little boy. "Eli" she gasped before remembering that he couldn't hear her. _'Hi Mommy' _he signed, a wide grin on his face. Sydney's face broke into a matching smile, the thrill of awakening to the sight of her child matched only by the warmth of the man who lay next to her, still sleeping. _'You should wake up Daddy' _she signed mischievously and Eli complied, pushing off of her chest with his hands and knees to pounce onto Vaughn, who grunted as he was awoken. Unlike Sydney, when Vaughn opened his eyes, he didn't seem the least bit surprised to find their son staring down at him. Instead, he reached up and tickled Eli, who Sydney noticed had inherited her weakness. Her little boy's delighted shrieks of laughter filled her ears, easily becoming the most beautiful sound she had ever heard. Elijah rolled onto his side, trying to escape, but his father's arms were strong. In retaliation, Eli struggled harder, his small but sharp elbow accidentally flailing into his father's nose.

Vaughn cried out in pain, finally letting go of the boy's sides as he brought his hands to his stinging face. "Okay, you win" he winced, repeating the motions to match his words after he had spent a minute massaging the bridge of his nose. "That's what you get for tickling. It's not fair if you're not ticklish too" Sydney goaded. She turned to Eli, signing, _'Tickling is not nice, right Eli?'_ He nodded vigorously, his bedhead becoming even more unruly. Vaughn sat up, lifting his child off of his chest and placing him squarely onto Sydney's lap. "I knew you two would team up against me soon enough" he groaned, signing a simplified version for Eli. Their son just giggled, burrowing his face into his mother's chest as she kissed the top of his head.

Then, he tugged on the sleeve of his dad's undershirt to get his attention. When Vaughn turned to look, Eli was pressing his first two fingers against his thumbs and moving his hands apart from one another. Vaughn chuckled and Sydney looked confused, her sign language still a little rusty. "What does that mean?" she asked her husband, who explained with a laugh, "He wants bacon." _'Feed Donnie first and then we'll make breakfast' _he signed to Eli, who nodded in agreement, once again knocking the air from his mother's lungs as he used her as a springboard to launch himself off of the bed. As he ran, barefooted out the door and across the hallway, Sydney looked over at the clock which read 6:05AM.

"Does this happen every morning?" she groggily asked her husband, who had also left the bed and was now pulling on a pair of sweatpants that he had fished out of a dresser drawer. "6:00 AM, like clockwork" he affirmed with a smile, adding, "Welcome to life with a toddler."

"You could have warned me" she said begrudgingly, leaving the warmth of their bed and snatching a worn college sweatshirt from his hands and pulling it on over the T-shirt that she had co-opted from him in the night. "I did warn you. Also, you have a whole bag full of your own clothes right there." He gestured with a hand at the large duffel bag that lay at the foot of the bed. She shrugged, rooting through the piles of new clothes that he had bought for her and pulling out a hairbrush. "I like yours better" she replied as she began to brush her hair. "And you told me to make sure I was dressed, not that I'd be tackled by a linebacker at 6am." Vaughn reopened his dresser drawer to find himself a new sweatshirt to replace the one she had stolen. He teased, "After all the fights you've been in, you can't handle a three year old?" Sydney pulled her hair back into a messy bun, quipping, "If I had known we'd be getting up three hours later I wouldn't have gone for round two." He had finished dressing and had moved to the doorway, leaning his head back into the room to say, "Why do you think I didn't warn you?" before ducking out and leaving her to her laughter.

Satisfied with her lazy morning appearance, Sydney stood to follow her husband to the kitchen. She stood and watched him silently for a few minutes, a smile spreading as she saw him getting out the pans and breakfast foods, stopping in the middle to help Eli sweep up a pile of dog food that had spilled onto the floor. She loved how easily they had slipped into this routine of domesticity, opening their hearts and their lives to her. Stepping forward, she grabbed a jug from the fridge and began to pour milk into the glasses that Vaughn had retrieved from a cupboard, joining the first of a lifetime's worth of mornings that they would share as a family. She was home.


	6. Epilogue

Epilogue

_Eleven months later_

"Eli, wait up!" Sydney called through the crowd of families and couples at the Santa Barbara Zoo. She jogged slightly as she pushed the now vacant stroller across the pavement to where her son stood pressed against the fence, watching the swans strut around their enclosure. This had been their first outing to a loud public place since he had gotten his cochlear implants and she had been worried that he would be overwhelmed with all of the noise. However, her determined son seemed unperturbed; too excited by the sight of the animals to let the new sensations keep him from enjoying this treat.

This trip had been in celebration of Eli's completion of the past six months of speech therapy. Sydney and Vaughn had never seen anyone work as hard at anything as Eli did at learning to speak. Smart as a whip and as stubborn as his mother, their son had thrown himself into his therapy after his surgery. His parents had known since he was a baby that he was a good candidate for the procedure, but they had elected to wait until Sydney was safely home to undertake the long recovery process.

After her return, Kendall had given them a week alone, the small family appreciating the peace and privacy. However, once the grace period had ended, Sydney had been called in to spend the better part of a month being debriefed. As she recalled nothing of the past four and a half years, it had been an infuriating waste of time. The meetings had largely consisted of sitting and listening to the details of every operation that she and Vaughn had completed during that time. When their case had been officially closed, Vaughn had turned in his resignation papers. Sydney had had a suspicion that he was leaving the agency when he hadn't left his cover job teaching French at UCLA.

When she asked him about it, he had taken her hand, looking over at the playground where Eli was clambering across the jungle gym. "I joined the agency because I wanted to be like my dad" he explained as they watched their son. "I've realized now that his legacy wasn't being a CIA agent. It was being a good father."

Sydney hadn't yet decided if she was leaving the agency for good. She had taken the year off to take care of Eli and adjust to her new life, but she hadn't officially resigned. Before her missing time, she would have said that staying home would have bored her to tears, but she had quickly learned that life with a toddler could be just as exciting and twice as messy as being an operative of the CIA. With her home all day and Vaughn having the weekends off, they had decided as a family that now was the best time for Eli to have the procedure, as they could devote their time and energy to his therapy. Sydney had opted not to pursue any of the CIA's experimental methods of memory retrieval. She had no desire to relive her past, not when her present held so much happiness.

Vaughn wrapped his arm across her shoulders as they walked, following their son's lead. "Did I tell you that Professor Hargrove is retiring?" he asked as they stopped in front of the den where a lioness prowled with her cubs. "No, I didn't know that" she replied, laughing as Eli growled at the lions. Animal sounds had been his favorite noises to learn so far.

"Have they found a replacement?" She knew where this conversation was headed. She hadn't yet made up her mind about returning to the spy world or leaving it for good, but she knew what Vaughn's hopes for her decision were. "Well John Stanton is the new English department chair, but he wanted to keep the classes that he had already been teaching." He left his thought deliberately incomplete, testing her curiosity. "So her classes are still available" she concluded as they moved on, looking now at a large gray elephant who was hosing himself down with a stream of water from his trunk.

Eli giggled, mimicking the animal's movements with his arm and practicing his trumpeting noise. "What courses did she teach again?" Sydney questioned, knowing that he had been waiting for her to ask. "Senior capstone and the special topics class." She humored him one last time. "Have they already decided on next semester's topic?" His face broke into a grin and she could tell that this was what he had been leading up to all along. "The life and works of Lewis Carroll" he announced triumphantly.

"Oh" she breathed. This had shifted the balance, making the idea of a normal life seem more appealing. "Maybe I should apply" she said cautiously. "Maybe?" His tentative tone matched hers. "Yeah…I don't know. It wouldn't hurt just to apply and see what happens." She leaned into him, content to share in this moment of normalcy. "Plus, we'd be working together again." He kissed her temple, letting his words tempt her and tip the scale ever so slightly in favor of his side.

"From briefings to staff meetings" she joked, her arm resting comfortably around his waist. Being a stay-at-home mom had been more fulfilling that she could have ever imagined. Maybe teaching would be the same. "Think about it, you'd never have to wear another wig" he continued, calling after Eli to slow down as he ran across the paved path towards the next exhibit. "Yeah, but you like me in wigs" she countered with her eyebrows raised. "Fine, you'd never have to wear another wig in public" he amended, earning himself a playful slap on the arm. "I'll apply" she decided. "I'll wait to make a final decision until I hear back." "Okay" he answered with a smile. He didn't want to push her. He knew that she would make her choice in her own time. As much as he hoped that she would choose to leave that life behind, he would support her no matter what she ended up doing. He was just overjoyed to have his wife back in his life for good.

"Mom!" Eli shouted. Her heart soared at the sound of his voice. Her name had been one of the first words he had ever learned to speak, and every time she heard it, it was the most beautiful sound she had ever heard. "What it is, sweetheart?" she asked, making sure to pronounce her words carefully, as he was still getting used to hearing. "What sound does he make?" Eli pointed up at the animal behind the fence. It was a giraffe with a pronounced crook in his neck. "I…I don't know, baby" she answered with a laugh, turning to her husband. "Vaughn, what sound does a giraffe make?" He shook his head. "I have absolutely no clue."

This moment was perfection, she realized, looking at the man she loved and their little boy who looked just like him. She loved them more than she had ever thought possible. "I want to marry you" she said in a hushed voice, squeezing her husband's hand. "Well, it's a good thing we already did that" he teased. "I'm serious" she said, turning to face him. "I want to remember it. I want to choose you all over again. I want to renew our vows." He smiled, brushing her hair back behind her ear. "Eli, come here" he called, and his son complied. "Should Mommy and Daddy get married again?" he asked.

"Cake?" Eli asked excitedly. His parents laughed. "Yes, buddy, there will be cake." "Then, yes!" Eli shouted, clapping his hands excitedly. Vaughn swept him up in his arms, tickling him briefly before swinging him up onto his shoulders. "How about we take a break and have some lunch?" Sydney suggested, and her boys agreed. They made their way to the clearing where a cluster of picnic tables stood, pulling their cooler from the bottom of the stroller. Vaughn worked on unpacking their food while Eli dragged a book out of the backpack his mother had filled with his things. He pulled himself onto Sydney's lap. "Read, please!" he requested, completing his request with his fist moving across over his heart, the sign for _'please.' _It was "Are You My Mother?", his favorite book as of late.

Sydney opened the book, reading the title aloud before starting, "A mother bird sat on her egg…" Eli snuggled closer into his mother's embrace. Her voice had been the first thing he had ever heard. That was one of Sydney's most precious memories, the day his cochlear implant had been activated. The doctor had signaled with her hand _three, two, one_, and Sydney had spoken, "Hi, Eli. I'm your Mama." Eli had grabbed at his ear, turning his head towards the new sensation. She and Vaughn had cried at the beauty of this moment, a victory for their son and the symbol of all that they had overcome to reach that point.

Now, her voice was soothing as she read to him the familiar words. Sometimes, he repeated the words along with her, "Down, down, down!" and "You are a snort!" were his favorite lines. Vaughn had finished setting up their lunch and had sat down beside them on the bench, wrapping his arms securely around his wife and child as they read. Now, she was nearing the end.

"You are not a boat, or a plane, or a Snort!" she announced with a flourish. "You are a bird, and-" Eli pressed his little hand over Sydney's lips, stopped her from speaking. "I wanna say this part!" He put a chubby finger to the words on the page, reading excitedly, "You are my mother!" He looked up at Sydney, his green eyes a reflection of his father's, the man who had fought so hard to bring them all together. Sydney smiled at him, then back at her husband. She didn't know for sure what the next year would hold, but she knew that she would be immeasurably happy, as long as they were by her side. "Yes, baby" she affirmed with a kiss to his cheek. "I am your mother."

Fin.


End file.
